Forbidden by Dust
by aetherling
Summary: (Formerly called Endless Hate) Will is under a curse. Except he doesn't know that he is, and now he's being forced to choose a girl to marry at such a young age...AU. Ch. 7's up!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: No ownie. No suie. Me poor. You stupid if you thinks I ownie.

Accursed Bonding

Prologue

     A man crawled across the ground. _I shall seek this evil named Dust, and destroy it, with the power of the 7 mages, inside my glass..., he thought. His glass was a round, crystal-like thing that served as a substitute heart inside his body. It glowed in his chest and his chest melted to reveal his glass. _The formation of Dust is near! I must be close. _He smiled as he took it out and held it up to his eyes. __A little farther...just a little farther... He shuffled silently upon the roots of the trees in the pine forest._

     Wait a second.

     Now then, you're probably wondering who the heck this guy is and what the hell is going on with him.

     Well then, first, let's just say he works for 7 mages.

     His full name is Tom Richard Parry, and he lives in one of those many worlds in the universe. Yet he did not know that he just crawled across an open window and exited his world. He works for the 7 mages, the authorities that control his world. They possessed legendary powers, powerful enough to destroy the universe at their will, but not as powerful as the Authority. One day, a man discovered Dust, _the cause of destruction and death in the world, the cause of murder and grief!, he called it. The seven mages used their power to contact the Authority, but they failed, and so believed that Dust is the destructive force that must be destroyed. They summoned Tom's body from the graveyard and the 7 mages fused their power together to make a glass ball of silver and gold. Inside contained their massive power, and placed it in his skeleton. With a piercing light, Tom's body glowed and his flesh reformed on his skeleton, and he began to breathe. As his eyes slowly opened, Daricius, the High Mage, spoke to him:_

     "Ye awaken, man. Ye have been reformed from the body of Tom Richard, and brought to life. Yet ye don't have thou's soul, ye are but an empty shell, a body that can walk, breathe, speak, yet no soul. No mem'ry. No feelings. Yeh shall obey us, and do as we command."

     "Aye, my lord," he said monotonelessly.

     "The glass orb we place in ye keeps you alive...as long as you have contact with it. Your quest is to seek Dust. Does thou know of Dust?"

     "Dust...nay. I 'ave no mem'ry of anything, certainly I not know of Dust."

     "Dust is the Destruction of Men, the cause of sin in the world. Find Dust, and use the orb in 'neath thy's chest to destroy it. Seek the Source of Dust, and destroy that destruction!"

     "Destroy the Dust! Destroy the Destroyer!" chanted the 6 other mages. "End the grief! End sin! End Dust!"

     "I christen you," said Daricius. The sky grew dark and he glowed with mighty power. "Shiinete ko yah mahu nam onifan suke caraste! Ausite! Ausite! Territe saku Parry, het caminair ot Dust!"

     Then Tom was stuck by lightning, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

     When he awoke, he was lying down on a low stone table, in a giant, stone-gray room of windows with many colors. Sunlight streamed through the windows and he felt as if he was dreaming. As his gaze fell upon a glass colored window that showed the picture of Heaven, he saw visions of Tom's memory.

     _He was sitting with a girl his age, sitting in silence, as if he was waiting for something. Then suddenly he turned around quickly and kissed her, forcing his lips upon hers. She shrieked and resisted, but he pulled her to him until their bodies pressed against each other. She was wiggling like a worm trying to resist a hawk's talons, yet he never let her go. No one could hear them, so Tom snickered and did terrible things to her._

_     That is the sin caused by Dust_, a voice said in Tom's mind.

     _I shalln't be like him,_ he thought. _Dust will never control me!_

     Then the scene changed. _Now he was already married to the girl, and they lived in a small, thatched house with their baby boy. He was coming home after a day at the bar, and he was walking with a younger woman, who was drunk and giggling. When he came home, his wife ignored them._

_     Must be a regular thing this Tom does_, he thought. _Wicked man._

_     His son was crying, and she was trying to comfort him and prepare dinner at the same time, but he continued to make a racket. Finally, she tended to him fully, but he continued to bawl. Then their dinner burst into flames and she tried to put the fire out with her apron._

_     "Look at my son, he has my strong voice and handsome looks, doesn't he?" bragged Tom to the woman. She giggled and said, "C'mon, I thought you were gonna 'get down' with me!"_

_     "Oh, alright." Then Tom turned to his wife and barked, "Hurry up, you! Mistreat my son, eh? I'll show you!" He kicked her into the flames. She screamed as her clothes caught on fire. She then spotted a tub of water in a corner and flung her self in it. She fell in with a splash, causing several droplets of water to hit Tom and his new girlfriend._

_     "Augh! My dress!" shrieked Tom's girlfriend. "Who is she, that woman?!"_

_     "She-" Tom turned to look at her face-to-face. "-is a whore."_

_     His wife trembled in anger. Anger flowed through her body with such speed that she picked up her burning dinner with her burnt hands and threw it at him. "Traitor!" she screamed._

_     Tom was hit on the chest by the flaming inferno and screamed. He quickly ran into the tub and splashed into it._

_     "Oh, Tom, you got me wet!" complained the drunk woman._

_     Tom slowly got up. His head turned towards his wife. "You shall die. Look at my chest!" He pointed to his ugly, hairy chest. "You burnt my beautiful, sexy chest! You she-demon! Die in Hell!"_

Tom heard screaming--two women screaming. He could see nothing, hear no voices, but screaming. _What's happening?_ Finally the next terrible scene revealed.

_     Tom's son was crying as his father threw two heavy bundles into the fire that looked suspiciously like the size of two bodies. "Shut y'er mouth," said Tom angrily. "They're already dead, and you'll never see your mother again! Be grateful that I am keeping you alive, even if you share the same blood with that whore." Tom left the house, which was starting to burn. His son followed, sensing danger from the house, and crawled away to the woods._

_     Dust!_ thought Tom. _Such an evil thing! It wills humans to suffer, to die! I will destroy it! I will..._ He gasped. _I'm in that terrible man's body!!! Noooooooo!!!!_

He heard footsteps walk into the room, and his mind came back to reality. "Why did thou place me in this body?" he cried when he saw Daricius walk into the light.

     "The visions ye saw...It was Tom's past life. Ye can only see the visions of the body you're in. We put thou in his body so to show thou the true evil in Dust. Is ye ready to destroy it?" said Daricius.

     "Aye. With all my heart-er-glass orb."

     "Very well. Your things for your quest are ready for ye. Use thy glass orb to find the location of where Dust is mostly found. That will be where Dust is made, right?"

     Tom nodded.

     "When thou are close to the location of the creation of Dust, the glass orb will glow. Don't break it, or else you shall perish. And thou has a new name. Thou is called Tom Richard...Parry. Thy name Parry, means the Destroyer of Dust in the old language of the Selijuk Mages."

     "Aye, Master."

     So now Parry has wandered through a window and exited his world on his quest for Dust. He slinks towards the creation of Dust. _Dust shall die!_ he thought excitedly. But he hesitated when he heard voices.

     "Won't you love me?" asked a woman's voice.

     "I-I cannot," said a man.

     "Why? I am ready to surrender my life to you. I will do anything for you!"

     Parry saw the man cringe. _That boy looks familiar, he thought._

     "N-no. Don't say that! I cannot love a woman!" The man was blushing, but he was trying to deny it.

     "But Emirys..."

     The man slowly took a deep breath and said, "I remember...my father...killed my mother...and there was fire...I do not know how he killed her...but I know there was screaming...and blood on his hands...and he killed another woman...I remember, although I want to forget. You see? I'm the son of a man who kills women. I am cursed. I cannot marry anyone, or else I might kill you!" Tears flowed down his face. "I love you too. But Setsunia...I cannot marry you."

    "Emirys..." cried Setsunia.

    "I will love you, even when I'm a million miles away. Goodbye." But before walking away, he locked his lips upon hers, and they passionately kissed. Parry's orb was glowing uncontrollably, as Dust entered their bodies and the matter in their bodies joined to make more Dust. _Tom's son!_ thought Parry. _So he is making Dust! I shall kill them both!_

     With a wild cry, Parry jumped out of his hiding place with inhuman strength and whipped out a knife. It glowed along with the orb as he slashed at Emirys and Setsunia. "Dust! You two are the cause of all sin!" he shouted. Setsunia screamed as Parry was about to stab her. But Emirys shielded her by standing in front of the knife's path. It struck him in the heart and he fell down without any struggle.

     "Emirys!" screamed Setsunia.

     "Please...run...Set...sun...ia...," he coughed. Blood ran from his chest and formed a dark puddle around his body. He took his last breath and his eyelids closed as he fell silent. Parry grinned at his accomplishment and said, "Now it's your turn! Join your boyfriend, sin-maker!"

     Setsunia screamed and tried to dodge his blows, and cried, "Emirys! Emriys! You killed him!"

     "He deserves to die, making Dust!" Then Parry accidentally tripped her and she hit her head against the hollow trunk of an old tree. She fell on the ground, covered with Emirys's blood. "It's time, girl, it's time," snickered Parry.

     But Setsunia calmly stood up and faced Parry. "_I curse you,_" she said in a snake-like voice that was deep and mysterious and unlike her own voice. She was glowing faintly and floating in the air not far from the ground as she spoke, "_I curse you into a Hell forever known to you...and you offspring..........You shall never break my curse...you will be cursed...to wed with the first woman that proclaims to fall in love with you...ugly or not...and if you resist....you shall become mad...and slaughter all you know..._"

     "Pathetic!" sneered Parry. He did not believe in curses. With a roar, he slashed his knife across her chest.

     "_I have avenged Emirys already...,_" she whispered. "_The curse may not sound much, but it shall cost you and your offspring....forever!" Then her body fell down on top of Emirys's and their bodies disappeared in blue and golden particles of light. They fluttered around like butterflies, entwining with each other and flew around. Parry had never seen anything so beautiful. Finally, the particles of light flew to the skies, higher and higher, until they disappeared into the clouds._

     He stood there, looking into the heavens, until he felt a pain in his chest. He clutched his chest with his free hand. The orb was pulsing! It beat louder, and louder, and louder, until it shattered with a bang, and freed a spirit made up of Dust.

     "_I am the curse..._," it laughed, and surrounded Parry. Before Parry could escape, it entered his body quickly. For a while, nothing happened. Then he felt a pull. An urge. "_No! It's trying to control me!_" Parry panicked. "_It's trying to make me kill..." The hand that held the knife was shaking violently. _"No! I must resist the Dust!_"_

     He screamed.

     2 months later, Parry was back at his hometown. He was staying inside an abandoned tower full of cobwebs and dust, and stayed there until he couldn't bear it. He finally crept out, but was afraid to face the 7 mages, for he has definitely not conquered Dust. There were still couples dating each other. When he spotted a blacksmith's shop, he asked for the blacksmith to reforge the broken orb. Even though he no longer needed it to live, he still wished to reforge it, for no whatsoever reason. After an hour, he walked around town and saw a store selling apples. It sent him a spasm of fear, for they reminded him horribly of hearts. He backed away from the store, and bumped into an ugly girl.

     "Oooh! Sisters, look! My wish has come true!" she giggled as she clapped. She bounced her fat self up and down in glee. "A handsome man has walked into my heart!" Then she grabbed Parry and said, "Everyone! Everyone! Look here!" Her voice was all high and squeaky. Everyone looked at her in disgust. "She needs to learn some manners, don't she, Pa?" asked a boy loudly. But the fat lady ignored him and yelled, "Marry me, darling! I love you!" She placed a big smooch on his face.

     "L-let go!" Parry screamed. "I hate you! Get away from me!" He pushed her away and ran back to his "home".

     He couldn't remember anything that happened the next day, and the next. When he focused himself on the third day, he heard an angry crowd.

     "He killed my family!" screamed a woman.

     "He murdered my wife!" cried a man.

     "W-what's happening? What's going on?!" he thought.

     "Kills him! He kills thems! We shall kills him!" hissed a man with a wart on his pear-shaped nose.

     His "house" was burning, he had to escape, or else he would be burned to death. But if he got out, he would have to face the villagers with their swords and sticks.

     "No...no!" he cried in horror as he realized what Setsunia said to him. "It can't be! The curse...it's real..."

     A chandelier fell on top of him. He screamed as he caught of fire. He then screamed even louder when he realized...

     "I'm...I'm rotting! I'm melting!" he gasped when he looked down at his corroding body. "Curse ye, curse ye, Dust! Curse ye, stupid curse!

     "Oh, you can say anything you like to us..." hissed a voice, and he realized that it was the particles of Dust itself. The shadowy form behind it was the curse. "Yet it's too late. You never listened. Curses are real, no matter what you believe...." they both spoke monotonously. The curse cackled evilly and they both swirled away into the glass orb that he left on the table. It fell to the ground and rolled next to him..

     As he lay dying on the floor, he saw an apparition of Daricius swirl from the orb and stand in front of him.

     "Ye have betrayed us...ye betrayed the universe..." he spoke.

     "No! No! I didn't do anything!"

     "Dust caused sin, and you committed sin. Don't thou know that thou murdered 11 villagers? Thou is a failure. We shouldn't have put our faith into ye. We should've done this task ourselves. Ye deserve to die, traitor."

     "No! But, I didn't! I..." Was he possessed with an evil spirit? Why did he have blank spaces in his memory? Daricius began to fade away with the echo of "Traitor...ye betrayed us...traitor..."

     "Wait! I...Please! No!" he pleaded, but the roof caved in and he was burnt to cinders.

     2 centuries passed. There was no sign of anyone who's surname was Parry, and the curse was thought to be gone. By no one.

     Yet there was a boy who was born, and as he was born, shadows fell upon him. He grew into a teenager and joined a gang. They wrecked walls, vandalized village property, and overturned graves. The gang stumbled upon a burnt tower, and they got an idea to wreck everything in. So he went in first and went to the second floor.

     "Man, it's dark in here," he muttered. He could only make out some charred wood, a burnt chandelier, and old-fashioned candle lamps with the dim moonlight. "Maybe I can find some loot here that'll make us rich and then we can buy more cigarettes." Then he spotted an orb.

     "Jackpot! That'll make a bunch of bucks," he thought excitedly. He hurried across the floor to grab it. But as his fingers curled around it, a burst of shadow particles and light, sand like particles exploded, and he got the full blast of it. He screamed, but it continued to spread. A wave of the particles shoved him against a wall, and they disappeared. He lay motionless against the wall, afraid to breathe.

     "What happened?" His mind was bursting with questions, but he found no answers. Finally feeling life in his toes, he got up as his knees shook, and went downstairs to meet the gang.

     He felt groggy, dizzy, and his vision was blurring. "W-what's happ...ening..." he groaned, and became unconscious and fell down the stairs.

     "He'll be okay. He only got a minor bump on his head, but he will be alright," said an unfamiliar voice. There was the sighing of two relieved parents. "Daniel?" asked his mother. "Are you awake?"

     He opened his eyes. "Where....?"

     "Honey, you're alright. You're gonna be home soon," she said.

     "I meant 'where am I', not 'how am I'!" he snapped at them.

     "Whoa, kid, steady there," said an unfamiliar man that stood next to the wooden bed. "You're okay. You're at my house. Now then...what were you doing in the old abandoned tower?"

     Daniel glared. "None of your business!"

     "Daniel!" cried his mother. "Be nice. This kind man helped you get better. Now answer his question."

     He sulked. "Humph. Adults these days. Nosy, nosy. I was only exploring with a few friends."

     "Now wasn't that easy, young man? No need to be secretive, huh?" said his father.

     After answering the unfamiliar man's questions, he finally was able to get home.

     "Sure was a nosy man," he grumbled when his mother asked what he felt about him. "Honestly, why did he have to ask personal stuff, like who I admire?"

     As they walked back home, they never noticed the man's eyes stare at them. "Alas," he spoke to himself. "I should've told him that he touched the orb of Dark Fate." He flipped through a book on his table. When he found the page, he read,

     "The Orb of Dark Fate-Legend tells of 7 mages who put their powers in that orb for the defeat of Dust. It brought the body of Tom Richard back to life but it's said that he failed the quest and was cursed to marry the first girl that proclaims to have fallen in love with him...he is called Parry, and the orb may pass on the curse to whoever touches it...and gain his dreadful surname."

     He closed the book with a snap. "Serafina Pekkala was correct. From her view from above, when she was there, when he received the curse, he indeed was surrounded by Dust and the curse. And-"

     Serafina's words echoed in his mind. "_The woman that gave him the curse cursed him to marry the first woman that proclaims to fall in love with him first, old or new, evil or kind. If he/she resists, then they will go mad, and can do anything. The curse may make him (and his offspring, if he even has any) murder, destroy, manipulate,...any of those. And perhaps other things. It's true, I saw. Anything is possible._"

     "Alas...poor boy..."

     Several weeks passed. No one had been murdered, or manipulated. Nothing was destroyed. It was just quiet. Then when he went out to buy some fruit, he saw the marketplace burning.

     "What the-"

     Instead of running away from the inferno like everyone else was, he ran into it. The first person to pop into his mind was:

     "Daniel!" he shouted. "Daniel!"

     A falling stand was about to hit him, but in a blur of wings, he was carried airborne. For a while he was confused, why was a bird carrying him? then he realized that it was Serafina Pekkala and her daemon, Kaisa.

     "Thank you, Serafina."

     "Why were you just running blindly into the fire? Are you mad?" scolded Serafina.

     "The curse...the curse has passed onto a boy named Daniel, and-"

     "You mean him?" Serafina pointed to a boy on the ground next to the fire, swinging a hammer at a stand, and laughing as it fell.

     "Yes! Yes! Put me down, I beg you! I think I can get ahold of him!"

     Serafina obeyed and he was placed gently on the ground next to Daniel.

     "Who are you?!" Daniel snarled in a voice unlike his own. "Demons!" he exclaimed when he saw Serafina in her witch getup and her daemon. He threw the hammer at them. Kaisa quickly dodged it and the man cried, "Please, Daniel, come to your senses! You must resist it!"

     For a while, Daniel stood there. Then he began to choke and collapsed on the ground. "W-what did I do?" he gasped.

     "Daniel," said Serafina. "Who said they were in love with you?"

     "Why do...you care?" he coughed. "That's my...buis..ness..."

     "This is important Daniel. We need to find out who it is so we can cure you," said the man.

     With all the strength he could muster, he gasped, "Cather...ine....our parents...met and....she's a...slut...."

     His eyes closed and he fell unconscious.

     "We must take him away from here," said the man.

     "No," said Serafina. "It's too dangerous. He will wreck whatever he sees, even if he's in a different place."

     "For now," he pleaded.

     Serafina looked at him thoughtfully. "All right. Take him somewhere empty, where there is no buildings he can wreck or people he can kill. For a while though. He does have legs to move around. Kaisa!"

     Kaisa bore Serafina back into the air and began to fly south. "Good luck!" she shouted to him.

     The man began to pick Daniel up. He staggered against his weight and began walking west.

     John Parry looked sadly at his son. 3 generations have passed after the death of Daniel, their grandfather, and no one, except for Serafina, his cuckoo wife, and the offspring of Serafina's friend knew about the curse. Heck, his son didn't even know anything about his own ancestors or the curse.

     It turned out that Daniel killed Serafina's friend (that guy that took him away) and went back to his hometown a week after he was moved to the mountains. He was controlled by his mad self and the curse, and ended up marrying Catherine. They both only had one daughter, and she was forced to marry an old man that admired her. "_She pouted and wailed, __but her parents helplessly had to make her marry him. Even after discussing the curse's effects to her, she began to wallow up in self-pity...," said a letter written from Serafina's friend's great-great-great-grandson._

     "_Her son, and his son after him had to marry each first person that fell in love with them. That is why, John, if you really wish to hide the truth of the curse from your son, make him marry a girl at an early age. It's a harsh way, but she must say that she is in love with him first._"

     "Will," he would say to his son. "Which girl do you like?"

     "Neither of them," his son would scoff. "Look at Petronia! She's showing off again to multiple boys. Why would I want to marry that slut?!"

     And so, John Parry decided to give Will the choice of a wife out of 3 girls, but forbidding them to say that they loved him before his selection. "At an appropriate age..." he thought. "I hope this will be a loophole out of this nasty curse..."

     After talking to 3 of his friends, they agreed for Will to choose one of their daughters to marry. Unfortunately, one of their daughters is Petronia. His other friend, Reynald Ekib, gladly offered his daughter, Simitra Ekib "so that her new husband can actually make her _talk for once..." The last one to offer his daughter was Lord Asriel, father of Lyra Belacqua. They all planned a day and time when they would all gather their daughters together and feast until Will chooses his future wife._

     His plan was almost ready. He didn't even have to tell the story of the curse to get their attention. Yet Will still hated girls and spat at Petronia's feet when she cooed up to him. "Forgive me, Will, but it's what I must do to save you from going mad," he thought painfully, as the awaited day came, and he had to break the news to Will of his early marriage.

Mm-hm, prologue's a bit boring and O.o weird. Dunno why I put the first part of the prologue.

I know, it sounds a bit mean, making their daughters be a tool to alter the curse, but I don't have any bright ideas. Hope you didn't get offended!


	2. Unwillfully Bethrothed

Hiya, everyone! This is my new fic, Endless Hate. And yes, it's a Will/Lyra paring. The prologue took place in the 1500s, now it's early 1800s and Will and Lyra are both 12, but they're still children. AU too.

Endless Hate

Unwillfully Betrothed

     "Father, I don't want to marry a girl," complained Will.

     "Nonsense. As you grow older, you'll realize how lucky you are to have a wife! Besides, you get to choose which wife you want out of three girls your age! I'm sure you'll get along fine with one of them," said John Parry. "And since I'm so generous, you will choose one of those three girls to marry tonight and I will give you two six weeks to get to know each other! Isn't it a great plan?"

     "But I hate girls! They act all dainty-like and get offended if you say only three words!"

     "Now, now, Will, act more like a gentleman. They will be coming soon, so why don't you wait near the door?"

     "Nah. So...why do I have to marry so early?"

     "Oh, they're all rich girls and it wouldn't hurt to have more money. Earlier is better, as I like to say."

     "Well....let's get you....dressed up," said Mrs. Parry as she shivered. A servant placed a coat on her but she didn't stop shivering. Another servant began to put a suit on Will. Will struggled in vain.

     "Aww...I hate this...why does all of my friends have to come? I'll be a laughing-stock! They'll tease me for life!"

     "Oh, Will, you're so stubborn," sighed Mr. Parry. "Pretty soon, all your friends will be jealous when puberty kicks in."

     "Yeah, right," Will muttered.

     "What did you say?"

     "Oh-um...nothing. Actually, I said something. Um, yeah. Yeah, I did. It was 'who are the ugly girls that will come tonight?'"

     "Will!" scolded Mr. Parry. "Girls aren't ugly. Oh, and do be nice to them, okay?"

     "Let's see...Petronia Hanzuel, ("_Daddy_.....don't you remember I HATE that slut?!") Simitra Ekib, ("Her name sounds as if she has a cold," said Will.), and....what was her name again? Ah, yes, Lyra Belacqua," said Mr. Parry.

     "What a weird name. She sounds as if she lies too much."

     "Never judge a book by its cover, Will," said Mr. Parry. He looked out the window and exclaimed, "Ah! They have arrived!"

     "Already?!"

     "No, your friends and our relatives!"

     "Awwwwww......Ohh...my humiliation's coming sooner than I thought!" groaned Will dramatically and sunk to the floor. He placed a hand on his forehead. "I don't feel so well, Father," he lied

     "That trick won't work now. Now go downstairs like a little gentleman ("And remember to _behave Will....but be brave...," reminded Mrs. Parry.), and greet them."_

      Will grumbled and walked very slowly down the staircase. "Girls are scum, girls are too boring, so why do I have to marry one so early?"

      He received a whack from his aunt.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

     At a faraway mansion, a young girl of 12 was also complaining. "Father, I don't want to marry! I hate boys! They're scum! They like to beat us up! I swore to my friends that I would never marry a man in my whole life, and now...I can't break a promise! Lord Asriel-daddy, please! I hate boys! I don't want to marry a boy! I want to be free! Husbands treat wives like slaves right-?"

     (Lyra already knows that Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter is her parents)

     "Now, now, what on earth gave you that idea?" Lord Asriel asked.

     "Well...You keep ordering Mother to 'go do this and go do that or else I'll hurt you so bad' and one night you were drunk and Mother said that and then you started slapping her-"

     Lord Asriel started to turn red. "Well-erm-don't look at your daddy for examples, Lyra, ahem...he be more kind, I think..."

     "Daddy, have you met my betrothed before?"

     "Actually, no."

     "Then how did you decide on whom I should marry?"

     "He is my friend's son. And Lyra, children must be seen and not heard. You have asked enough questions. Now come. We're going to be late."

     "But daddy~" whined Lyra and picked Pantalaimon up. "I don't wanna~"

     "Lyra, honey," said Mrs. Coulter, whom was already in the room, stroking her daemon's fur. "He lives in Oxford. Remember Oxford? You had so much fun there. I'm sure you'll enjoy living there."

     "What?!" Lyra shot up from her chair as if she was on fire. "I'm living there?!!?"

     "Of course, honey, why not? When I married your father, I had to move from my own home to live with him."

     "That means...This will be the last time I stay here? Oh, I en't going there, I don't wanna!"

     Lyra howled and yelled, but Lord Asriel just boxed her ears and said harshly, "Lyra! You will go and marry him! You shall be punished for your insolence! Servants! Take her away!"

     Pantalaimon and Lyra resisted, but one roar from Lord Asriel's daemon sent Pantalaimon shivering with Lyra, who kept screaming and throwing a tantrum. The servants reluctantly picked her up and put her in a carriage. Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel went in after her, the doors closed, a whip cracked, and the horses carried Lyra and her parents to Oxford.

     The snow was falling a light drizzle when they started, but during halfway, it started to snow heavily. Several times the horses shook themselves to get rid of the cold snow piling on their backs. "Maybe," Lyra thought to Pantalaimon. "Maybe it will become a blizzard, and then we'll have to turn back!"

     "Too late Lyra. We've already passed Oxford College, that means we're already in Oxford!" said Pantalaimon.

     "I never had any fun in Oxford. It's such a boring place! The only thing fun was Oxford College." Lyra stood up to look back at the fading Oxford College.

     "Sit down, Lyra. Now act more like a little lady, please," commanded Lord Asriel.

     A few minutes later, the carriage stopped with a jerk and they got out. Lyra was the last one to come out and when she did, she was all sulky. Her mood became even worse when all of her betrothed's relatives began to give their "comments" about her ("Her face is too pale. Pale usually means she will have an early death")("She's too short. Look at that look on her face! She's going to be a tough one for William.")

     "William," she thought. "Is that my betrothed? What an dreary name."

     She continued to frown as they walked around inside the mansion. Finally, they entered the ballroom, where her betrothed was waiting.

     The first thing Lyra and Will thought was, "Gee, someone's too sulky today."

     "William!" whispered John, who was standing next to him with his mother.

     Will frowned and said, "Welcome to Parry Manor, Lyra Belacqua."

     "And..." hissed his father.

     "And I am William John Parry."

     "Now than, Lyra, why don't you introduce yourself?" asked Mrs. Coulter.

     "But he already knows my name! And how come he gets to know who I am, and I don't? It's not fair!" grumbled Lyra.

     "Lyra..." warned her father.

     "I don't like him," Lyra pouted. "I don't want to marry him!"

     Will felt himself get angry. "Well it's not like I also want to marry you! Why would I be eager to marry a-a-_girl with dirty fingernails?!" he shouted._

     "Blech!" Lyra stuck out her tongue. "Who wants to be prim and proper like a stuck-up boy!"

     "I am _not stuck-up!" Will charged at Lyra. Before he could reach her, his father grabbed him. "William! Come now!" he snarled. Will shook his father off and glared at Lyra._

      "Lyra, you're being a very bad girl today," said Lord Asriel. "Now then...John! It's so good to see you! How was your expedition? Where did you go again...?"

     "Oh, it was splendid. My team went over another bridge to another world and oh, Asriel, there were armored bears! They were great with metal, but they weren't really friendly since they've a long war with this tribe called Tartars, did you know they drill holes in their enemies heads? And they also blah, blah, blah..."

     Mrs. Coulter and Mrs. Parry ushered the children away to another room, where Petronia Hanzuel and Simitra Ekib were waiting. "Now then, why don't you four get to know each other a little? We'll be in the living room, if you need us. Dinnertime will be-"

     "Oh, good, dinner! I'm starved!" Lyra exclaimed.

     "Lyra! Where are your manners?!" scolded Mrs. Coulter.

     "No m-manners? Oh...d-dear...I don't think I can t-take all this excitement...." stuttered Mrs. Parry. "I'll...stay away............. from..." It was clear she meant Lyra.

     Lyra, Simitra, and Petronia looked blankly at her.

Lyra: ".............\_/"

Simitra: ".............O.o"

Petronia: "..........oh, well, go on ahead! We'll be good little children here! You can trust us to take care of William, Mrs. Parry!^_^"

     "O-okay..." Mrs. Parry was led out the room with Mrs. Coulter.

     The children all stood in the gigantic room in silence. Lyra was still sulking, Simitra was looking quite terrified, but Petronia was twirling around, dancing with an invisible man.

     At last, she finally stopped in front of Will and bowed. "How do you like my dancing, my dear?" she asked sweetly.

     "A lot like a pig's walking," snorted Lyra in her bad temper. "Lyra," whispered Pantalaimon. "I don't think-"

     "Oh, how RUDE!!!" exclaimed Petronia.

     "I will not allow you to make insults to my guests, _Belacqua_," said Will, who decided to use that opportunity to get back at Lyra. Lyra just "humphed" and said, "Whatever."

     "Whatever? You think it's a matter just for you to say 'whatever'?" Will smirked. "Pathetic. I thought that you girls were obedient."

     "Oh, Will, you're such a gentleman!" Petronia tried to kiss Will but Will shoved her off. "Please don't," he grumbled.

     So Petronia got off Will and decided to pester Simitra. "Well, well. _Simitra Ekib_. What a strange name. Simitra. It sounds as if you're a witch. I wonder if they'll tie you to the stake and burn you because of your name?" Petronia sneered and cackled.

     "Actually, my mother _is a witch," Simitra said. "My mother is one of the highest ranking witches of the clans. She-"_

     "I don't care about your mother," spat Petronia. "Witch! Eh! You don't deserve to marry Will! Will shall marry a girl with higher ranks than a witch! Like me..." she added as an afterthought. "And '_Ekib_'. WHAT a last name. It sounds as if someone's trying to say your last name with a head cold."

     "My last name is a last name, just like yours!" said Simitra indignity. "There are more bizarre last names than mine, and I think that you should respect other people's last names, and themselves too!"

     "Who cares what you think?" Petronia sniffed daintily. "No matter what your little foolish, childish imagination says, I should be the one to marry Will-darling. After all, wait--are you rich, _Ekib_?"

     "No, but being rich isn't what matters."

     "Yes, being rich doesn't matter if you live in a big manor. Or own lots of land. Or if your father's a knight and villagers give their fees to him."

     "Actually, I don't live in a manor or own a lot of land and my father's not a knight and I'm not rich."

     "Well, as I was about to say, 'rich people should marry richer people'."

     "Why?"

     "Oh, you are a daft girl. A daft girl like you shouldn't marry Will. Smart girls should. Like me," she added. Then she began to  twirl on the ground again. "I am the smartest girl out of all of us, I bet!" She twirled next to a lamp. "I am smarter than any of you!" Then she accidentally crashed into the lamp and it fell down with a sickening smash. "Oops," she said innocently. "I *heh, heh*...I meant to do that..." She grinned, and it gave them an impression of a smiling pig in a wig.

     Lyra and Will snorted at the same time but then realized that they actually agreed on something, and then they covered their mouths with their hands and looked away from each other.

     "Why don't you just shut up, street rat?!" screamed Petronia angrily at Lyra. She zoomed up to Lyra until their faces were an inch apart.

     "You cannot command us what to do!" said Lyra fiercely. "We're not your servants! And besides, we don't even intend to be one either! You're such a spoiled bi-!" Pantalaimon turned into a leopard to show Lyra's fierceness.

     "AIEE! It-it turned into a wild animal! Kill it! It's a demon!" Petronia jumped behind Will and pointed to Pantalaimon with a quivering finger. "Oh, protect me, my prince!"

     "What's so bad about daemons? Are you scared of them?"

     "Demons are evil spirits! You must be the Devil's daughter if you like demons!"

     "It's DAEMON, you prick! DAEMON, DAEMON, DAEMON! Why would your DAEMON be a demon if it's a part of you?"

     "An animal that's a part of you? Impossible! Throw away your fantasies away if you want to marry Will!"

     "Daemons en't fantasy! And I don't even wanna marry Mr. Stuck-up! Where's your daemon, anyways? Did you break the great tabloo and abandon your daemon = your other soul?"

     "I never had one! And how dare you call Will-darling stuck-up! He isn't stuck-up he's-"

     "That's what you think! He's moody, aggressive, mean, obviously stuck-up, a pain in the arse...and pathetic!"

     "Pathetic!?" snarled Will. "You little fool. You're the one that's pathetic! You should get out of my house right now, you little-"

     "STOP!"

     Will, Lyra, and Petronia fell silent. Although Simitra was shorter than all three of them, it seemed as if she as a tall person with strong energy and mighty powers. "Let's all make pax. 'Fighting shall not solve the way', like my mother used to say."

     "Who cares about your stupid mother, wherever she is," Petronia said, ignoring what Simitra said. " I saw all of Will-darling's relatives, my mom and dad are here to see Will propose to me, and Belacqua's dinky-looking parents, but where are yours? Did you kill the real Simitra and her parents and plan to marry Will for you evil deeds?"

     "No. My mother..."

     "Yeah, get on with it!"

     "Mother has gone to a better place, a place where all sufferings end, the place where angels sing. I like to imagine her there, since she experienced a world full of sorrow, murder, destruction...decay.... Ah, my beloved mother..." Simitra trembled and placed a cold hand to her heart.

     Lyra began to cry. "Oh, oh, how could that happen to someone like you? You don't deserve it, no way...how could you even bear say that your mother has..."

     "I don't get it!" screamed Petronia. "It's not fair! I should know what's going on!" She started to stomp on the floor. "How come I have to suffer?! I wanna know! How come everyone else gets to know what's going on and I don't?! Huh, HUH?!!?"

     "It's rude of you to speak of that topic!" said Lyra. "Her mother-"

     "Oh! I get it!" Petronia snapped her fingers gleefully. "Your mother's in Hell! Well, good for her! That's the place where all witches should go! To be tortured and suffer forever for practicing witchcraft on innocent people!"

     Simitra gave Petronia a hard look. Then her jaw quivered and she burst into tears. "How could you-how could you speak of my beloved mother like that? She never did anything wrong, she never even killed anyone..." Then Simitra fled the room.

     "Smart move, Petronia," scowled Lyra.

     "Don't try to make matters even worse, Belacqua," snarled Will.

     Lyra glared at Will. "Poop-head!" she spat. "Snot-face! Magpie!"

     "Why do I have to be betrothed to a little street-girl like you?" growled Will. Petronia flashed a venomous "humph-he-likes-me-better" smile to Lyra.

     "Why do I have to be betrothed to _you?" asked Lyra, ignoring Petronia and turning around to face him._

     "What a stupid decision our parents made. I hate girls," he grumbled. "They're so moody."

     "What?!" shrieked Petronia, trying to butt in. "But Will darling, I'm not moody, I'm bright as a-"

     "Boys are moodier," Lyra shot back to Will.

     "Am not!" yelled Will.

     "Is too!"

     One of Will's cousin came into the room. "Ooooh, it's Will and his wives!" he cackled. "I'm surprised you all aren't snogging yet!"

     "Shut up, Fri!" Will snarled.

     "Someone's in a bad mood!" he continued to giggle.

     "You wouldn't like it...if you were engaged to Petronia Hanzuel, would you?!"

     "Eep! Not Hanzuel! How could you--pair me--with that--that--pile of dung?!" he cried, shivering and twitching as he looked at Petronia.

     "PILE OF DUNG?!!?!!?!!?" screamed Petronia loudly. "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU SON OF THE DEVIL!!! RETARDED SHOULD BE YOUR FIRST NAME, YOU STREET RAT!!! I'M THE MOST PRETTIEST GIRL, AND YOU'RE TOO BLIND TO SEE THAT! HAHA!!! NOW DIE, INSOLENT FOOL!!!" And Petronia chased after him with dagger-eyes.

     "Ha! Now go away, Fri!"

     Fri ran away, while giving an "I'll be back" look to Will.

     "Well then, that takes care of him...and Hanzuel too..."

     "You seem to know Hanzuel very well," commented Lyra.

     "Yeah, she's a family friend just because she's the richest girl in Oxford. Since I know her a little too much, I memorized all the pathetic stuff she does," said Will sarcastically. "And comparing from her to you, you two are very much alike."

     "Oh, why you--I en't fat! I don't show off! I dunno where the seven hells you got that friggin' idea, but you act as if you own the entire universe!" Lyra pouted.

     "I do not!"

     "Yeah, you do! I bet you don't have any friends!"

     "Oh yeah? I have lots of friends! Probably with more common sense because your friends (if you even have any) must be mental to be friends with you!"

     "My friends en't mental! Yours must be mental! Who'd wanna make friends with a moody-pathetic--stuck-up--spoiled-"

     "Spoiled? You're the one who's spoiled!"

     WHAM.

     Petronia was back, panting, sweating, and exhausted. "Little *huff* b@$#@&^...got away, ooh, I'll *gasp* punish him..."

     She collapsed on the floor.

     "You're already tired from running for just a minute?" asked Lyra disbelievingly.

     "Will! Will! Hey Will!" someone shouted.

     "Oh no, dang it, not another one...it's Kora, hide, Lyra, Petronia--"

     "I already saw your fiancées, Will," Kora snickered. "Well, well, well." He stopped in front of Lyra. Lyra tried to look fierce, but Kora was a foot taller. "So this is the girl you're gonna sleep with? I know you don't wanna sleep with that big lug named Hanzuel." Kora jerked his head at Petronia, who quickly got up and arranged herself vainly to impress Kora.

     "I-I'm not sleeping with her!" exclaimed Will.

     "Hah! That's what you say!" Kora examined Lyra. "S' not bad. Getting bigger, a little prettier, ooh-"

     His eyes lit up when he looked at a certain place on Lyra and advanced on her.

     "W-what are you doing?" cried Lyra as he grabbed her and pulled her closer. She squirmed rapidly and screamed, "Let me go!" Then Lyra kicked him with all her wrath, and sent Kora spiraling across the ground. He slid for a distance, then stopped and got up with fury in his eyes. Kora stormed up to Lyra, who began to back away, and grabbed her arms.

     "Let--me--go...!"

     Lyra gasped as pain rushed into her arms; Kora was trying to twist them off! "You...madman..." she hissed. Then she choked, "Pan!!!"

     Pantalaimon swiftly came to the rescue by clamping his jaws on Kora's left arm. He clung for dear life, even after Kora let go of Lyra. He screamed and tried to shake him off

     "Get him off!" he screamed. "It hurts!"

     Blood was splattering all over Pantalaimon's head, but he continued to cling on to his arm.

     "Make him stop!" yelled Will to Lyra, and she spoke, "All right. But I shall dearly regret it. Pan!"

     Pantalaimon unhooked his jaws off Kora's arm, and Kora began to run away, crying his eyes out. "My arm, my bloody arm..."

     "Blech!" spat Pantalaimon. "His blood pollutes my mouth."

     "Why did you do that?!" shouted Will.

     "He tried to twist my arms off!" roared Lyra.

     "You kicked him first! And it wasn't exactly a soft kick either!"

     "He grabbed me before that! You think it's comfortable when a total stranger starts staring at you and then he suddenly grabs you like he's drunk?! Geez, I don't even think drunks grab strangers! Only mental people probably do!"

     "Okay, so he did have no reason to grab you, but he isn't mental!"

     "Oh, yes he is! I hope I never see him again, that prat!"

     "Yet there's one little flaw in your plan. All my friends are schooled here, and that includes Kora."

     "Well I'm not gonna be living here anyways! So why does it matter?!"

     "My father said that the one I choose to be my wife will stay here for six weeks until the wedding."

     "Y'mean, you're choosing me?" asked Lyra, shocked. "OMIGOD, I DON'T WANNA MARRY YOU, YOU'RE AS BAD AS YOUR MENTAL 'FRIEND'!!!" she screamed with her jaw dropped all the way down to the floor.

     "Hold it! HOLD IT! I am NOT choosing you! Don't get the wrong idea! I'm probably gonna choose Simitra, since I don't have a loophole out of this stupid marriage, and she's way better than you two spoiled-sports!"

     "I en't spoiled! You're spoiled!"

     "No, I'm not spoiled! But at least I don't make up really dumb fantasies about 'daemons'!" Will pointed fiercely at Pantalaimon.

     "They're real! I guess yours is gone cause you probably mistreated it!"

     "I did not! I never had a daemon, for as long as I can remember! Your 'daemon' is just a stupid cat!" And Will broke the tabloo by hitting Pantalaimon.

     "Hey!" screamed Lyra. "How dare you hurt Pantalaimon! You're not allowed to do that!" Then she kicked Will hard in the shins and ran away.

     "You little beggar-girl!" Will cursed as he rubbed his shins.

     Lyra ran all the way back to her mother. "Why, Lyra, what's wrong, hon?" asked Mrs. Coulter.

     "That evil...evil...(hey mom, can I swear?) jerk hit Pantalaimon! Just look at him! Pan's all shivering now! This has better not scar me for life..." sniffed Lyra.

     "Oh, well, Lyra, he's not used to daemons, I think."

     "Not used to?! How can he be not used to daemons?! I thought everyone had daemons! How come Will, Miss Prissy Petronia, and Simitra don't have daemons and I do?"

     "They do have daemons. Yet they are invisible," answered Mrs. Coulter. "Invisible-even to their humans' eyes. Their humans don't even know they exist, except for us. That's the way of how it works."

     "Of what?"

     "Of the people from a different world. Their fathers may have moved here from a world with invisible daemons long ago and had their children here, and so they will never decay here, but they inherit their invisible daemon from their fathers."

     "Why do they decay in a different world?"

     "Their blood does not belong here. But since their children's blood belongs here and there, they can live wherever they want."

     "Mother, since he had the nerve to touch my daemon, do I still have to marry him?"

     "Yes, if he chooses you."

     "AWWWWWW.....but whyyyyy.....?"

     "More money. Marry a rich man and you'll be rich."

     "But we're already rich!"

     "Ah, well, that's how it works out, Lyra. Now then! Let's...eat. It's already dinnertime! Time flies past a bit too fast!" And Mrs. Coulter ushered Lyra out of the room.

     As Lyra was pushed out, she couldn't help but wonder, "What's the need for more money, and a spoiled husband?"

Yeah, it sucks. I have this weird thing of making beginnings boring and confusing. Next chapter: Will chooses, but will something go horribly wrong with his decision? And Lyra meets Roger, and guess what he's working as...

I keep forgetting about the daemons, forgive me! Some of the guests do have daemons, Simitra does have a daemon, but she has acquired the witches' ability to go great distances away from her daemon.


	3. Expect the Unexpected Part 1

Muahahaha. Evil imagination ideas swarm around my mind.... Muahahaha. Fic will become very dark later on. Very, very dark. Muahahaha.

Expect the Unexpected...(Part 1)

     _Ting. Ting. Ting._

     Everyone stood stiffly behind their chairs. The great dining table was being set with unique foods and silverware. The servents scampered quietly around setting the rectangular table, pouring the richest wine into the delicate wine cups as John Parry spoke:

     "My dear friends, and my dear relatives. I have brought you all here, to witness my son, William John Parry, select a wife. My dear wife and I have decided that our son has reached the proper age of getting married. Today, you all have the honor, of witnessing William select his future wife out of three fiancees. May I introduce, Simitra Ekib." He waved a hand towards Simitra. She looked shyly at her fancy glass plate. "Petronia Hanuzel." Petronia smiled, revealing her pearly-yellows and did a lady-like curtsy with her lacy dress bulging as she bent. Her dirty-blond (a mixture of golden-yellow, light-brown and grey) was messed up as she wagged her head. "And Lyra Belacqua." Lyra felt her face grow warm as all heads turn towards her and continued to stare straight ahead. To Kora. Kora smirked evilly to her with dagger-eyes, showing his injured arm alot. "_He's plotting something against me, I know it. I know that look,_" thought Lyra. Fri was standing near Kora, and gave a snicker. Sick minds these days.....

     "A toast," he said as he picked his filled wine cup up. The purple liquid sloshed inside it. "to my son, William, for the happy future, with his wife in good health."

     "To William," murmered several people as they drained their cups. Foolishy, Will tried some, but to his horror, the wine tasted rotten. Everyone else around him seemed to enjoy it. He forced the wine down his unwilling throat and tried to keep a straight face. "Disgusting..." he thought.

     "But the marriage will not be held today," continued John. "Am I that cruel of a man to make his son immediately marry a damsel he does not know much about?"

     Several people laughed weakly.

     "I will give 6 weeks to let them know each other. Live in the same roof with each other. After that extra time, we shall move on to the wedding, when William becomes the noble age of 13, when he enters manhood. Come now! Let us dine and feast to our hearts' content!"

     Everyone finally squeezed in to sit on the soft, white cushions stuck to the chair. Lyra stared at 3 forks and knives laid in front of her. "Which fork do I use first?" she hopelessly thought. "I remember the last time I dined so ravishly like this with all these complicated (not to mention pointless) manners and all that, but that was like what, 3 years ago?"

     Hesitantly, she picked the biggest fork and despite a few looks, she began to dine in on the rich food. On her first bite of turkey, flavor exploded in her mouth and she never knew how hungry she really was. She grabbed more and more helpings, sometimes skipping a manner or two. Then, with her mouth full of food, she saw a great giagantic fat cobra skin delivered in front to one of Will's uncles. "What's that?" she asked him.

     "Snake surprise," he said eagerly.

     "What's the surprise?" Lyra asked as her curiosity and excitement grew.

     "Watch." Will's uncle used his biggest knife and slit open the skin. Live snakes with a black and wet coating squirmed out of the cut as liquid oozed out onto the platter it was on.

     Lyra's jaw dropped as the snakes began to slither and squirm. Her face turned pale. Will's uncle dropped his knife and picked up two wet snakes with his hands. Then opening his mouth as wide as he could, he shoved the two snakes down his throat at the same time. A wet sound was heard as he chewed on the last of them. "Yummy," he spoke with his mouth full of snake. He licked his fingers with a loud smacking sound. Several people were staring at him as he grabbed another two slimy snakes. "My favorite Indian cusine," he told Lyra. "Want some? It's really delicious, if you ask me."

     "Er...well...." Lyra's appetite disappeared along with her words. "Heh, heh, maybe when I'm in a....death by hunger situation..."

     Will's uncle continued to smack loudly on his "dinner". Mrs. Parry had to be ushered away from the table so that her delicate figure would not pass out. She continued to tremble violently with her skin as pale as the snow building up outside. "Brother!" scolded Mr. Parry.

     "I am ashamed, my brother," he dejectedly said, hanging his head. "I could not resist. It was how I was taught to dine on them during my trip to India."

     Several people placed their utensils gently on the table and looked at their food without any appetite to continue eating.

     "_Note to self_," thought Lyra ashamedly. "_Never, ever be curious with food._"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

     "Uh, now that we have finished feasting on the food that has been brought to us..." said Mr. Parry. "And filled our hungry bellies...."

     Will rolled his eyes. The servants were cleaning the table up and did their jobs rather quickly. Soon the table was spotless (except for several grease stains on the tablecloth) and everyone eagerly looked towards Mr. Parry.

     "I ask you all to join us as William makes his decision for his future wife. You have decided already, right, Will?"

     Will was snapped back to his senses. Gah! He was supposed to choose a wife already?! Who was he going to choose?

     "Definently not Petronia," he thought angrily as the girl was trying to show off to him, mouthing "PICK ME! PICK ME!!!" Worst thing of all, her parents didn't care about her behavior.

     Will's head turned towards Lyra.

     "_Geh! Is he going to choose _me?!!?" Lyra thought panickedly. "He hates me, he hates me, he hates me, he hates me, he hates me, hehates me, he hatesme, hehatesme, hehatesme..."

     "Not her," Will thought. "She's got a temper issue." Then he glanced at Simitra.

     "Oh yeah! She's a good pick compared to those two! Even though...it...isn't fun....being married...to...girls...she's the only good choice I have."

     He felt everyones' eyes bore through him. Bravely, he spoke, "I have decided."

     "Very well then. We await your decision," Mr. Parry spoke calmly, although happiness exploded all over inside his body. "_No blasted curse this time! No unhappy son either!_"

     "I choose...." Will hesitated. What does Simitra think about it? It is more uncomfortable not knowing whether someone likes you or not than knowing that someone hates you. No matter how much backbone he had, he still felt pangs of guilt throbbing in his heart whenever he treated an innocent child terribly. "I choose...."

     Tension was in the air. Even Petronia stopped waving to Will with all that suspense killing her.

     "Sa....Simitra," he said quietly.

     Whether Simitra was fazed or not by his decision, she did not show it. Her emerald eyes continued to stare at Will with a far-away look.

     "Hurrah!" cried Will's relatives and bolted up from their chairs and began clapping. "Congraulations, Will!"

     Lyra never felt more relieved in her entire life. "_It would be a nightmare to marry that spoiled animal who does nothing but complain all day_," she thought. "_Yet...poor Simitra...she has to put up with him unless Mr. Spoiled reconsiders his decision in the next 6 weeks..._"

     Petronia, on the other hand, was in a state of shock.

     "Will..." she choked. "H-how could you turn down...my love?" she whimpered and placed a hand on her forehead dramatically.

     Luckily for Will, he did not hear her with all that yelling from his relatives and so the curse has not been activated yet. "Save your cheering for later," he said. "What's the big deal about a decision? It's not like I said that I am the ruler of the world."

     "Our little popping-jay, don't be unhappy," he mother cooed to her daughter. "There are more better men out there."

     "But...but I WANT WILL!!!" she screamed and began to throw a tantrum. "I SHOULDN'T HAVE SUCH A HORRIBLE FATE LIKE THIS!!! YOU TOLD ME THAT I WOULD ALWAYS GET WHAT I WANT AND NOW YOU DIDN'T GIVE ME WHAT I WANT SO YOU DIDN'T GET ME WHAT I WANT!!! I HATE TRAITORS!!! YOU PROMISED!!!" she screamed as she flung herself to her mother and father (who were as fat as her) with flying fists.

     "My little popping-jay," he mother tried to coo as she was being attacked. All of Will's relatives stopped celebrating to stare at Petronia.

     "Come now, our darling Petronia..." he father said as he tried to control her. "We don't want to set a bad example to the other children, do we?"

     Petronia instantly stopped her fists and feet. She quickly got up from her mother and smoothed her dress while facing Will's stunned relatives. "Ah, pardon me," she sweetly said.

     "_So show-offy!!!_" Lyra thought irritatedly.

     "I hear there's going to be a dance after this, am I correct?" she continued.

     "_Dance_?" thought Lyra. "_Why do you need to dance after a dumb dinner? When did she come up with that strange thing?_"

     "Not a dance," Will's father laughed. "Just a little...a little _get-together_."

     Will's relatives laughed and everyone began to go all around. When he thought no one was looking, Will muttered to Simitra (who was still standing in the same spot without any expression), "May I have a word with you?"

     Simitra nodded slightly and allowed Will to lead her away to an empty porch overlooking the backyard of the Parry Manor. Little did they know Petronia saw them sneak away together and silently crept after them.

     "What is it?" asked Simitra as the sat down on chairs facing each other. The moon was full tonight with the moonbeams gleaming off Simitra and Will's skin. There wasn't a speck of cloud in sight, and a slight breeze chilled them to the bones.

     "Uh...." Suddenly, Will had lost his courage to ask her. "_How am I going to do this?!_" he found himself think. "B-beautiful night, isn't it?" he blurted out. "_Smart_," his conscious growled to him. "_Talk about the weather, will you?_"

     "Yes," Simitra calmly said. "Reflects the beauty of nature."

     "Uh-huh..."

     "_What are they getting on to_?" thought Petronia, who was eavesdropping on them. She was hidden behind the curtains covering the windows on the doors leading to the porch, and the door Will and Simitra passed through was slightly ajar. Her hands carefully made the crack between the doors bigger, and rested them on the handle. She peeked through the crack, and found them sitting across from each other, with a small patio table between them. "_Oh, how romantic_," she thought venomusly. "_I would like this if it was me over there, not that witch-filth!_"

     "Si-Simitra," Will's voice shook.

     "Yes?" she asked quietly.

     "Do you...hate me?" Will's voice was barely above a whisper.

     "No..."

     "_This is really getting on my nerves_," thought Will nervously. "_How can I do this? How am I going to ask multiples of questions that lead to finding out whether or not she's happy with my decision? That's it! But...should I ask her that so soon? Ohhh...._"

     "Are you....are you..." he stuttered. Swollowing his pride, he asked, "Are you okay?"

     "Yes, I'm fine-" Simitra started to say, but he interrupted, "No! I mean...about my decision."

     There was an awkward silence. Will felt his hands throb as he gripped his seat tightly, awaiting Simitra's answer.

     "_I hate suspense!_" thought Petronia angrily. Her hands shook angrily. The doorknob handle shook loudly and Simitra quickly took them off. "_Drat! They're going to notice me!_"

     "What was that?" asked Simitra.

     "_None of your buisness_," Petronia thought poisonusly.

     "I dunno," answered Will. "Must've been the wind."

     "But I felt no wind..."

     "_Shut up girl...shut up, daughter of a filthy witch..._"

     "Simitra..." asked Will again. "Are you...sad?"

     Simitra looked slowly up to Will. "I know you don't like me..." she said solemnly. Will was about to protest, but caught himself. It was true...

     "Yet you don't hate me either..." she continued. "What do you think?"

     "I would be more content if I knew what you think," answered Will nervously. "_This is so corny!_" he thought. But no matter how cold he was, he still worried about what other people felt.

     "I don't hate you..." she answered. "Yet I don't love you..."

     "_Forget it. She's not exactly unhappy with my desicion_," thought Will. "_I'll...lie to her. I'll...make her a happy wife. Perhaps it will turn out into a happy marriage, like Father expects. Although I'm won't be happy....It wouldn't have come to this is she would just get to the point!_"

     "Simitra..." Will gulped. "To be honest with you..." he lied. "I-I admire you."

     That was the final blow.

     "WILL!!!" screamed Petronia as she burst from her hiding place. "You may take her for your wife!" she cried. "But my feelings will always go to you! Can't you see it?"

     "S-see what?" asked Will nervously. "_Uh-oh...Petronia Hanuzel_."

     Petronia collapsed on Will. "I love you. I wanted to marry you. But your heart longes for someone else. Even though I can't change that..." Petronia then snarled angrily and kissed Will forcefully, sending them both toppling down the chair.

     "Will!" cried Simitra. Petronia got up quickly, still pinning Will on the floor with a foot and slapped her.

     "Hanuzel..." groaned Will as Simitra was thrown against the railing from the force. "...why?"

     "Because," she hissed dangerously. "I need a husband after all. I need to be more popular and some more money couldn't hurt...That's what love is all about. Money and popularity. Oh, don't worry Will. I admire you. After all, you've got a cute little a-"

     Right on cue, thunder crashed in the distance. The once-clear sky was now covered with clouds, and it began to rain. "-that I'll enjoy oggling," she finished before cursing at the sky.

     "_This girl is crazy_," thought Will as Petronia began to drag him inside, leaving Simitra lying crumpled on the ground with a swollen cheek and a bleeding lip.

     Downstairs, Mr. Parry heard the sudden weather change. "It has started...Simitra must have told Will those words to activate the curse...But...wait a minute...I saw that no-good girl Petronia follow them...!" He raced to the stairs. "No, Will!" he cried. "No, no, please..." he moaned as he dashed up the staircase.

To be continued....and it's still a Will/Lyra, trust me! I was in a rush when I typed this, so the other half isn't completed...


	4. Expect the Unexpected Part 2

Oh boy.

I haven't updated in a long time.

So let's just say I will be putting one of my fics on hiatus to work on this one.

Enjoy!

Expect the Unexpected--Part Two

     "No, oh no, no..." Lyra heard Mr. Parry mutter.

     "What's going on?" she wondered as she followed him quietly. "I hope this leads to something interesting, cuz I could do with some excitement. This _get-together_ en't all that fun."

     Pantalaimon turned into a mouse and snuggled into Lyra's pocket without objecting to her idea, surprisingly.

     With light steps behind Mr. Parry, they ran through many rooms and up two floors. Then they finally bumped into Petronia, who was dragging Will.

     "Let go of him," Mr. Parry commanded to her.

     "He's _mine._ I know," she scoffed superiorly.

     "What?"

     "I heard everything." She smiled wickedly before continuing, "I heard it all, when you were talking to that man before dinner. He's mine, now, mine!"

     "Whew, it SMELLS!" gasped Lyra as she clamored behind Will's father. "Mr. Parry, do you have a dead rat or summat up here? It-" She stopped short when she say Petronia and Will. "Oh. Never mind, I think I found out why," she added with a fake smile.

     "Hear what, father? What were you talking about?" asked Will as he struggled to break free from Petronia's grip.

     "John?" called a voice. It was Serafina's friend's great-great-great grandson who had also came to the party. He already knew about the curse anyways and was just like his great-great-great grandfather. Everyone turned their heads and saw him walking up the stairway to the dim hall they were in.

     "Azhurm," Mr. Parry muttered. "What is it?"

     Azhurm reached the little group and his wide eyes told Mr. Parry, "_Tell him now. There is no use in hiding it from him! It is hopeless to seal the secret away further!_"

     But Mr. Parry answered, "No, I cannot."

     In which all the children looked at him with arched eyebrows.

     "Let-go~!" grunted Will and finally broke free of Petronia's grip. Then he tried to scramble away.

     "Will, get your little be-hind right here now!" screamed Petronia immaturely (well, when was she ever mature?) and trapped him in a hug.

     Lyra felt anger and jealousy course through her body and she stomped over to the little couple and wrenched them apart forcefully.

     "Hey, street rat!" shrieked Petronia at the top of her lungs. "Why'd you do that for! He's MINE and you're not supposed to touch him!!!"

     "He's yours?" asked Lyra in a mocking voice. "I don't see your name on him."

     "I don't see yours either!" Petronia smirked with a wicked smile.

     "I never said he was mine!"

     "Than don't touch him! He's mine!" Petronia grabbed Will for the umpteenth time.

     "Let him go!" Lyra shouted, anger spilling out all over again.

     "No! He's MINE! MINE! MINE!" (er, it kinda seems like the seagulls from Finding Nemo have invaded here, hasn't it?)

     "He's not yours!"

     "Yes he IS, you STREET RAT!"

     "That name's kinda OLD, you creepy old FREAK!"

     "FREEAAKK?!!? HOW, HOW DARE YOU CALL ME THAT, YOU, YOU GARBAGE WART!"

     "What's a FREEAAKK? And what is a garbage wart?"

     "Fine than, stuck-up, bratty, spoiled fat PIG."

     "Ha! All those words reflect you, you smelly old FART."

     "I do not smell, pig!"

     "I en't a fat pig, you dirty SLUT."

     "SLUT?!!? You dare call me, Petronia Hanuzel, princess of all beauty, a SLUT?!!? How disgraceful, how disgusting, how dishonorable--what's a slut, by the way?"

     "It's what you ARE, always trying to show off to boys. It makes me SICK."

     "Oh--who cares about how you think!"

     "Hm, let's see!" Lyra began to count on her fingers. "Me, myself, and I. Ha!! 3 against 1!!"

     "Pooh! I have an army of cute boys that would extend past your pitiful three."

     "Yeah, all that are probably DEAD by now after they took a good, clean whiff 3 miles away from you."

     "Why, you!"

     "'Why, you' what?"

     Petronia and Lyra continued to bicker endlessly while Will, Mr. Parry, Azhurm, and Pantalaimon stared at the argument in shock. "Boy," they all thought. "When girls are angry, they sure are SCARY!"

     "And I bet your family's so poor, they're making you marry Will darlin' just to get money! Humph! At least I appreciate a part of my future husband!" cried Petronia.

     "_Oh,_" thought Lyra. A spasm she couldn't describe was sent across her chest. "_Oh, oh._"

     "What's wrong, Lyra?" asked her dæmon.

     "_Wait,_" she spoke to Pantalaimon. To Petronia, she added, "My family en't poor! Who cares how much friggin' money either of us got! And this en't my brilliant idea to get married to him either!"

     "Now what?" Pantalaimon asked again when Petronia was busy making up a comeback.

     "_When she said that I didn't appreciate Will, I became _jealous_,_" she thought angrily. "_H-how could I be jealous of a jerk like him?!"_

     "Lyra, Lyra, Lyra," sighed Pantalaimon. "There are many feelings in the soul that you are not aware of, and you must seek the answers to your mysteries, in yourself, not me."

     "_You are me._"

     "I am not your heart, Lyra."

     At last, Petronia spoke, "Than that settles it! He's mine!"

     "Really! I don't see your name on him!"

     "I don't see yours either!"

     "I never said he was mine!"

     "STOP IT!!!" someone shouted and everyone looked down the hall. At first they saw nothing, but when it got closer, they saw Simitra walking towards them.

     "W-what happened?" gasped Lyra when she saw blood on Simitra's lip. Simitra wiped it off with the back of her hand.

     "Nothing," she replied quickly.

     "What do you want, daughter of a witch?" sneered Petronia.

     "SHUT UP!" shouted Lyra angrily to her.

     "NO! You can't make me!"

     "STOP FIGHTING!" Simitra yelled again. Both of them saw her clench her fists and her hair were slightly raised by themselves.

     "Thank you, Simitra," said Mr. Parry. "Now than, all of you go downstairs. We adults need a talk."

     The children quickly scrambled down the stairs. Of course, Lyra wouldn't let Petronia go down without a little revenge. She stuck her foot out and Petronia tripped over her leg and bounced down the stairs with a BONKOIN noise that sounded like a part bonk, part boing. At last, they finally reached the second floor.

     Once they made sure they were out of earshot, Azhurm spoke in a low voice.

     "John, Will is now Petronia's husband. You know that, and his decision must be changed. I do not know how you can convince him to change fiancés without telling him about the curse."

     "I won't tell him as long as possible. That little spoiled brat," cursed Mr. Parry. "eavesdropping on us when she wasn't supposed to. I know William wouldn't want a wife like her. But...what am I to do to ensure his happiness?"

     "Tell him about it and change his fiancé."

     "Than it would be just like before." Mr. Parry's face was set. "This generation of Parrys _will _get rid of the curse, once and for all. It will be in this generation, and I cannot wait for the next one."

     "I admire you determination, but he has only roughly 2 to 4 days until the curse turns him into a monster. Then when he's in his little monster form, he might try to kill Simitra."

     "Is there another way? Can he still have a fiancée that's not Petronia, and not go wild?"

     "Well, usually in the past, your grandfathers' curses activated when they were far away from their destined spouses, so if Will sees Petronia everyday..."

     "But then again, on their wedding day, Petronia might reveal the curse, and well, William can't marry Simitra anymore. What am I to do?"

     "You'll find the answer soon," Azhurm reassured. "I'm sure of it."

     The next day, it snowed heavily and when everyone tried to leave, the horses would refuse to budge. Lyra hung out with Simitra, and asked, "Hey, are you really going to marry Will?"

     "Well, if I must," she answered.

     "Do you like him?"

     Simitra paused. "I admire him. But I am not in love."

     "Than he should be MINE!" cried a snobby voice Lyra wished she would mute.

     "Oh, go away Petronia, why are you eavesdropping on us?" Lyra scowled.

     "I wasn't eavesdropping, I couldn't help hearing your little conversation. Besides, it's rude not to let a lady speak!"

     "Go away."

     "Little rats, you'll never get my Will."

     "Go away!"

     "Will is _mine_, mine forever. Remember that, Simitra, you daughter of a witch."

     "That's really nice, but he's Simitra's fiancé. Now GO AWAY, before I throw this at you and mess up your wig!" Lyra picked up a glass vase.

     "My hair isn't a wig! How dare you!" was the last thing she told them before the vase shattered against the door she closed.

     After receiving a boxing, Lyra and Simitra were chatting again in the same room.

     "That girl really enjoys butting into people's businesses, doesn't she?" she scowled.

     "I agree. And, I'll probably say this only once in my lifetime: sh-she's a twisted slut." Simitra clapped her hands over her mouth. "I didn't say that, did I?"

     "You did," laughed Lyra.

     Simitra laughed along with her. The bond between them grew a little stronger.

     The second day, it continued to pour endless amounts of snow. Fireplaces all around the manor were lit to keep everyone warm. As revenge from yesterday, Lyra poured oil and black soot in Petronia's hair early in the morning while she slept. When she woke up, she went downstairs and saw Will, and rushed towards him, screaming, "GOOD MORNING WILL DARLING!!!"

     Will ran away, screaming bloody murder.

     "W-what's wrong?" she cried as she chased him.

     "Look in a mirror, you monster!" he yelled. 

     Petronia finally stopped and skidded to a halt. She took out a hand mirror with her name engraved on it and looked into it. "GOOD HEAVENS! WHAT IN TARNATION--"

     She paused. Her beady little eyes narrowed. "I think I know who...."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

     "SIIIIMIIIITRAAAAA!!!!"

     "What is it?" Simitra came downstairs to face a sweaty, smelly, and sooty Petronia. "Oh my." She tried to stifle a giggle.

     "I'll KILL you, I'll KILL YOU!!! Look at what you've done to my beautiful hair! You'll pay!"

     "Since when was it beautiful in the first place?" Lyra stepped forward from Simitra's back. "Hmmm..." She studied Petronia. "Actually, this look looks pretty good on you!" She giggled wildly and ran away.

     "Get back here!" Petronia yelled and began chasing her.

     Simitra ran after them. When she caught up with Lyra, she whispered, "Lyra! Hide in the closet!" Than when they rounded the corner, Lyra quickly stuffed herself and Pantalaimon in. "Not a word," she hissed to him when he was about to scold her.

     "So you're behind this!" screamed Petronia to Simitra, who ran quickly from her.

     "I can't let her catch Simitra!" groaned Lyra, and despite Pantalaimon's protests, she crept out of the closet and ran after Petronia.

     "Hi!" she yelled when she passed her. She caught up with Simitra.

     Petronia chased them through the house like a mad bull. Through the kitchen, past the surprised maids, out the yard, into the living room, past their angry parents, down the hallway.... While running, Lyra was struck by an idea.

     There was a room and a table with a vase in front of the room's doorway, Lyra and Simitra hid in there. But before going into hiding, they pushed the table into the middle of the hallway. "Now go!" Simitra gasped, exhausted. She went in the door first. Lyra went in next, but hesitated on closing the door.

     "What are you waiting for?" asked Simitra, gasping for air. "She'll see you!"

     Petronia finally came in sight. She saw Lyra in the doorway and Lyra quickly closed the door. Without noticing the table blocking her way, she charged, and crashed into the table. "Oh, my head," she cried. The vase was shattered into a thousand pieces and the table's right leg was torn off and trapped her two legs.

     "I didn't think my idea would work, but I guess Petronia was too stupid not to notice the table," laughed Lyra as they came out the door and walked past the screaming Petronia.

     "Hurry, let's hide in the attic so that they won't find us," said Simitra. By "they", she meant the angry parents.

     "Okay!" agreed Lyra and they both ran off, giggling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

     "What a blizzard," sighed Mrs. Coulter.

     It has been 3 days since Will's decision, and everyone was stranded in his house because of that great blizzard which still continued to swirl. Nothing wrong was with Will, and he still hadn't found out yet about his curse. Petronia kept sucking up to him after the "oily and sooty hair" incident while Lyra got pangs of jealousy she couldn't explain.

     "I honestly wish to go home," Lyra complained. "If only the winds would stop!"

     "Well, Lyra, they won't," Lord Asriel grumbled. He had been in a really bad mood after everyone found out that he drank too much each day and got great hangovers. "And it wouldn't help if you keep whining!"

     "Yes Father," she sighed and stared out the window next to her mother, who was making evil plans to steal the last mint tart on the table without Petronia and her parents noticing.

     "The food stores have gone low already," groaned Mr. Parry. He turned his head. "Mr. and Madam Hanuzel, I don't mean to offend you but, wouldn't it be better if you ate during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, instead of every hour?"

     "And kill ourselves?" they gasped. "What an outrageous idea!" Then they both reached for the last mint tart. "It's mine, woman!" growled Mr. Hanuzel.

     "Ladies first!" groaned Mrs. Hanuzel.

     "Let go now, I command you!"

     "I want it! Are you that cruel to let your wife starve to death?!"

     They both didn't notice the golden monkey sneak over to them silently.

     "I say, give it now!"

     "I should have it!"

     With amazing strength and agility, the golden monkey snatched the tart from their hands and jumped to Mrs. Coulter. "Ah!" the parents cried.

     "Well, you two lose," said Mrs. Coulter slyly and popped it in her mouth. "_Mission accomplished_," she thought to herself. "Well done," she told her dæmon.

     She laughed and quickly ran away from the seething hungry couple.

     Then Lyra sunk back to her usual bored stupor.

     Snow was falling snow on snow making drifting patterns. Her eyes were slowly closing and her mind was starting to shut down when suddenly a piercing, high-pitched voice shattered the silence with a jolt.

     "AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!"

     "Goodness me, what a dreadful cry!" gasped Mr. Hanuzel.

     "Than why not find out what has happened?" asked Lord Asriel. Lyra followed him but he commanded, "Lyra stay here."

     She whined while he went to follow the source of the voice.

     Everything happened in a blur. Mr. Hanuzel eventually got up and waddled after Lord Asriel and Lyra hid behind him as she followed, than they saw Mr. Parry rushing past them with his face white as chalk, than several servants were carrying a limp Mrs. Parry away as they got closer and finally--

     "_Simitra!_" Lyra screamed.

     Simitra, was dead.

     Her body lay in a puddle of her own blood, staining the carpet floor as a fireplace poker stuck through her body, standing tall and lonely.

     "No, no," Lyra cried. Pantalaimon shivered in his own fear and shock. "How, how could this have happened?" she began to weep.

     Mr. Hanuzel stepped away from the crying child and into the bathroom, ready to toss those cookies he ate earlier. Lord Asriel stood next to the body with Azhurm inspecting her while Simitra's parents were crying against each other.

     "F-father," moaned Lyra and slumped on him. To her surprise, her father didn't break away from her like he would usually do. Instead, he stroked Lyra's hair and said quietly, "I told you shouldn't have come."

     Lyra began to cry as hard as she could. She had so much fun with her in the past 3 days, even though she was usually quiet. Just when they were about to become friends, "_This had to happen_," she thought as bitterly as she could. Only yesterday they both have resisted death by the skins of their teeth together, running away from Petronia and her angry self, giggling wildly at the same time, not caring what would happen afterwards in their happiness. It overwhelmed Lyra as she thought about it. A few hours ago, Petronia was chasing them and now her own friend lay dead in her blood.

     At last, Mr. Parry arrived with a big sheet and some servants. He removed the poker with shaking hands and his servants wrapped Simitra's body with the white cloth.

     "Someone killed her," said Azhurm.

     "That is obvious," cried Mrs. Ekib. "But who? Who would want to kill our child?"

     "_Petronia_," thought Lyra, but in her heart she knew that Petronia wasn't spiteful enough to kill her.

     After the servants were done wrapping Simitra's body, Mr. Parry stood near the Ekibs. Azhurm stood next to him, and he looked like he knew who killed Simitra but was very determined not to let the secret out. Minutes passed. At last, Mr. Parry spoke.

     "I-I'm dreadfully sorry what has happened to her. I wish that she may rest in peace," he told them. "I-I don't know what kind of lunatic would want to kill her, and I vow to punish the murder greatly if I find him. Or her."

     "Your apology is accepted," said Mr. Ekib tonelessly.

     "We will have a honorable burial for her. She...was a great girl, and I could tell she would've been a great woman when she grew up."

     "Could! Would've!" cried Mrs. Ekib angrily. "I-I refuse to accept that Simitra's dead! Stop using past tense words! She's alive! She's alive!"

     "P-please forgive her, she, she's very distressed right now," pleaded Mr. Ekib as he comforted his mad wife.

     "We're all distressed," said Azhurm. "Especially those with secrets."

     Mr. Parry twitched slightly, but no one saw him. Azhurm shivered and began to breathe.

     They all began to walk away. "Come, Lyra," said Lord Asriel and steered Lyra away from the site when the maids came in to clean the blood.

     Lyra didn't disobey him for once.

     "Father," she cried silently. "Who would want to kill her? S-she didn't do anything _terribly_ bad..."

     "I am not sure Lyra," he solemnly spoke to her. "We'll have to tell your mother. Then we'll have to tell....William."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

     "William, there is something I would like to tell you," said Mr. Parry with a slight shake in his voice.

     Everyone, including the Ekibs, were gathered in the largest living room in the manor. Almost everyone was standing up with their heads bowed.

     "What's wrong, Father?" asked Will with a shaking voice.

     "Something terrible has happened," he said. "You see-"

     "_How can I explain him this?_" he thought. He tried again. "Well, er..."

     "Our daughter is dead," said Mrs. Ekib sadly. "Our daughter is dead!" she wailed.

     "Yes," Mr. Parry hung his head. "That is what...has happened in the past hour. She...your fiancée....is dead."

     Will said nothing but hung his head.

     "So...you'll have to marry Petronia."

     "What?!!?" he cried. "But, but-"

     "No buts, William."

     "D-don't I have two more choices?"

     Lyra stiffened. Did he want to chose her? "_Ew, that's nasty! I'm not going to bed with him!!!!_"

     "Yes, but William, Petronia-"

     "Why don't you ever call me Will?" he hissed darkly.

     Mr. Parry's eyes narrowed. "You don't talk back to your father like that, _William_!"

     "That's right," Will sighed. "I'm always forced to do everything. You just want me to marry Petronia, for your happiness, not mine! First, you force me to marry one them, then Simitra dies and now you're forcing me to marry Petronia! If I married her, you'd be a happy old fart, wouldn't you!"

     Mr. Parry gave him a smack against his head. "_Don't ever talk to your father like that!_ It's for your own good!"

     "Oh yeah, my own good, huh? I don't see any benefit from marrying Petronia!"

     His father was about to tell him the curse, but stopped himself. "_Now what should I do? He'll refuse to marry Petronia for sure..._"

     "Father," said Will. "Father, I'm sorry. It's just that...."

     "What is it?" he asked sadly.

     "I'm--I'm in love with Lyra."

     Lyra's eyes widened. "What the-"

     "That's right, I love her," said Will stubbornly.

     Mr. Parry was surprised. "Will, I do wish you happiness. If-if that's your decision, than she shall be your fiancée for the next six weeks."

     "_Now what am I going to do?_" he thought. "_Unless I could invite Petronia to stay over for the next six weeks...But then on their marriage...Oh no wait, I remember I said that the six weeks were for William to get to know her. Maybe William will end up disliking her..._"

     "All right than Will," he spoke to him.

     Everyone left the room except for Azhurm and Mr. Parry.

     "You should've just told him the curse," he scolded.

     "Oh, that's right, Petronia knows too!" He cursed at himself.

     "Now what's going to happen in the future?"

     "I don't know. We'll have to find out. By the end of six weeks....hopefully he wouldn't be in love with Lyra anymore, I'll....tell him. Foolish boy, he thinks he's in love. Ah, youth. But sooner or later, I'll have to tell him. It's hopeless to destroy the curse now. I have failed...my poor son..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

     "Will!" hissed Lyra. She pulled him into an empty room. "What was that about you loving me?"

     "Oh, don't be ridiculous!" laughed Will. "Obviously I was lying. I can't believe you fell for it!"

     "Than, than when you said-"

     "It was to prevent myself from marrying Petronia. Can't you play along?"

     "So...so you don't-"

     "Yes! Honestly, does it take that long for that message to get into your head?"

     Lyra clenched her fists in anger.

     "You were just using me?" she said through clenched teeth. Her eyebrow twitched and her eyes narrowed.

     Will gulped.

     "You're such a JERK!"

     And Lyra drove her fist into the side of his head.

     "Ow!"

Yes, my writer's block is disappearing! Whee!

By the way, some reviews would be appreciated. Thank you!


	5. First Day

First Day

     Lyra opened her eyes and groaned. _Where am I_? she thought. She could see pink curtains drawn around her bed. Pink was one of the worst colors, in Lyra's opinion. She made a mental note to burn them when she got the chance. She sat up. Memories of what had happened yesterday rushed to her head. "That jerk!" she screamed angrily and punched her pillow. _Will._ _He used me. He used me just not to get in trouble._ And then Simitra.... Tears filled her eyes. _Why did she have to suffer? Why did she have to die?_ The aching in her heart started to well up.

     Lying next to her was Pantalaimon, curled up in a ball. He was a leopard at the moment. When he felt Lyra's heart ache, he woke with a start. "What's wrong, Lyra?" he asked.

     Lyra sighed. "Simitra," she said quietly.

     Pantalaimon didn't have to ask anymore.

     _So where am I_? Lyra thought again. She dried her eyes and opened the curtains. She looked around the unfamiliar room. _Oh yeah..._ She groaned. _This room is for Will's future wife. But that's not going to be me! He can marry prissy Petronia; she matches him quite well!_ The room was quite fancy with elaborate pillows on a couch and a very fancy chair with a small desk with sewing materials. Lyra frowned. _Ew, sewing._ She got out of her bed and found her clothes hanging from a hook on the wall. _How come I don't remember being here?_ she wondered as she began to dress. She looked in a mirror on a chest of drawers next to her bed. There was a comb and some ribbons besides it with a hair tie._ Do they expect me to wear these things?_ she wondered disgustedly as she stared at the pink ribbons. Her hair was messy, but she didn't bother combing.

     She looked away from the mirror and sighed. _Today...I begin my life as Will's "fiancée"_._ What is that little snake planning up to, using me like that? He knows he can't get out of his situation, now that we are betrothed to each other._ She dragged her feet across the floor to the closed door. Before she opened it, someone knocked on it. Lyra quickly turned the brass handle and was face-to-face with Will.

     "You!" she exclaimed. Her face contorted into fury. Pantalaimon rushed to her side and roared angrily.

     "Whoa, calm down, all I'm here for is to call you downstairs. Father insisted," said Will backing away.

     "So have you told him yet that you're not going to really marry me?" asked Lyra.

     "Can't," said Will. "If I break the tie, then he'll make me marry Petronia."

     "Well you're definitely not marrying me! I hate you, you hate me, so we're better off separated!"

     "Just come downstairs," he grumbled.

     Lyra frowned and walked behind him down the stairs. In a blur of feathers, Pantalaimon became a blue jay, perched upon her shoulder.

     "We'd better find something to get out of this..." she muttered. "cuz I am NOT marrying a jerk like you!"

     "I am not a jerk!"

     "Yes you are!"

     "No I'm not!"

     "Yes you are!"

     "No I'm not!!!"

     "Yes!"

     "No!"

     "Yes!!!"

     "No!!!"

     "YES!"

     "NO!"

     "YES!!!"

     "NO!!!"

     "YE-"

     "SILENCE! THE BEAUTIFUL AND GRACEFUL PETRONIA ARRIVES, AND EVERYONE MUST BOW TO A PROPER LADY!" Petronia was walking up the stairs towards them. She reached Lyra and her face contorted into a sneer. "You call your self Will's fiancée? A truly caring wife never argues with their husband!"

     "I AM NOT HIS WIFE OR HIS FIANCEE!!!" Lyra screamed.

     "That's right! Will should be mine!"

     "Sure! Take him!"

     "What, am I up for grabs?" grumbled Will.

     "Oh, shut up!" said Lyra.

     Petronia slapped Lyra. "How dare you say shut up to darling Will!"

     Lyra slapped her back. "How dare you slap me, pig!"

     Petronia smacked Lyra. "How dare you call me a pig!"

     Lyra punched her back. "How dare you smack me, piece of trash!"

     "Can you both PLEASE stop it?!" shouted Will.

     "NO!!!" both of them shouted and continued to bicker.

     "How come you're here! Will already made his decision, the blizzard's over, so just go home with your family!"

     "Ah," Petronia's eyes glinted dangerously. "But I have the permission of Will's _father_ to stay. In fact, he begged me to! After all, who'd want a pretty girl like me to go away?"

     "Me," said Lyra and Will together.

     Petronia pretended that she didn't hear them. "Let's all go to dinner, shall we? Come along, my friends!"

     "Her foe," corrected Lyra under her breath.

     At last, they all managed to reach the dining table without anymore bickering, shouting, arguing, and fighting. "Good morning, Mother, Father," Petronia said when they all entered the room. She bowed low to her parents, then turned around to face Mr. and Mrs. Parry. "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Parry." Then she faced Lyra's parents and smiled sweetly to them. "Good morning, Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter. 'Tis a fine day, is it not?"

     Mrs. Coulter smiled. "What a polite and mannered little girl!" she whispered to Lord Asriel.

     Lord Asriel nodded. "If only our daughter was just like her...without the plumpness," he said.

     At the same time, Lyra was thinking, "Ugh, can't they all tell that she's putting on a big, FAKE act? I'm glad I'm so NOT like her..."

     They all were seated in their seats. To Lyra and Will's relief, they didn't end up sitting together.

     "Let's dine in!" said Mr. Parry, and right on cue, a servant came with a big platter and set it on the table. He opened the lid to reveal some eggs delicately cooked and appealing to the eyes of the hungry guests.

     After the breakfast, Lyra was escorted to a bright yet small room with at least 6 windows and shelves full of cloth, sewing needles, and thread. "What's this?" she asked her mother.

     "Well Lyra, it's time you started how to learn sewing," answered her mother as she handed her a needle and thread. "Here, it's quite easy. Your new teacher will show you." Mrs. Coulter left and then Lyra could see her sewing teacher sitting in a chair. Her teacher had managed to place herself in a shadowy place despite the sunlight and all those windows. Of course, Lyra expected her teacher to be a woman, after all, c'mon, do men even _know_ how to sew in this time period?

     Her teacher finally stood up and entered the sunlight. Lyra could now see her clearly; she was about 15 or 16 and wore a simple dress in a very dark shade of blue. Her hair was black and wispy that came up to her shoulders and she wore the cross on her neck. It was made of silver, but it seems to have lost its brightness and now it reflected light dully. She was a few inches taller than Lyra, yet as she rose before her, she was like a mountain next to a low, low hill.

     "I am..." she spoke in a deep, rich voice with power behind it. "Durga Furrne."

     "Pl-pleased to meet you," said Lyra who was now suddenly nervous.

     "She's scary," said Pantalaimon. He was a fly, buzzing next to her ear.

     "You must be Lyra Belacqua," she said a little lightly. "No sewing experience, am I correct?"

     "Y-yes," answered Lyra with a small blush of shame.

     "Well then, let's get started. Hold your needle steady and string a piece of thread matching the color of your cloth through the hole..."

     Pantalaimon then turned into a cat and relaxed at Lyra's feet, but he never took his eyes off Durga.

     Durga was patient with Lyra, yet she gave a mysterious aura that make Lyra uneasy. "There, that's it, just keep sewing with small stitches and in the same length of space...See? It's easy."

     Lyra looked up at her. "_She doesn't look like she's native here. Did she come....from somewhere else?_"

     Durga caught her student staring at her. "What is it, Miss Belacqua?"

     Lyra flushed. "Um, nothing," she answered and went back to her sewing. "_Scary..._"

     "Will, time for your lessons."

     "Lessons?" gulped Will. "Uh...what lessons?"

     "You're usual lessons, of course." Will's father looked at him. "I hired a new tutor for you. I hope you can behave this time..."

     "But, but father, I thought I don't need anymore lessons! I mean, after all, I'm going to get married (not) and, and-"

     "Ridiculous! Getting engaged to a girl doesn't mean your education should be stopped! I want you to learn and fill your head with lots of knowledge so that when you inherit the family business, you will run it smoothly and successfully. Now then. Let me introduce you to your new tutor." Will's father placed a strong hand on Will's shoulder and steered him into a room (yes, there are a LOT of rooms) and there stood tall man with a bushy mustache. He held a cane and the top of it was shaped in a lion's mouth. The bottom looked unusually sharp and the man's strong hands looked like as if they were used to lay the cane upon children's backs.

     "William, meet your new tutor. Saimel Aberson."

     "Um...hi," said Will.

     Aberson's eyes glared at Will, which sent a paralyzing effect down his backbone. His eyes were dull blue, yet they glinted and had a sharp feeling to them. "And it's a pleasure to meet you too!" he said gruffly. He had black hair tied into a small ponytail and he wore a dark suit. He gave an uneasy aura to Will, as if those steely eyes would watch Will forever.

     "Do beg your pardon, Mr. Aberson, but you have two more students to teach. Let me fetch them." Will's father left the room in a jiffy.

     "Wait! Father, don't leave me with this scary man!" Will wished to say that but he forced his mouth shut and stood silently in the room with his creepy new tutor.

     "So boy," said Aberson. "What is your family business, eh?"

     Will looked into the man's eyes but found that it was a fatal mistake to do. His body just seized up and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't open and speak.

     "Speak. I cannot teach without knowing what I must teach."

     Will managed to open his mouth and croak, "We...we sell supplies made from the blacksmiths' guilds, shoemakers' guilds, sewing guilds, and other guilds too. In order for me to run the business, I must learn how to read, write, and put numbers together." That was what his father had told him long ago when he started to learn reading, writing, and "putting numbers together."

     "I see..." Aberson's mouth curled into an unpleasant smile.

     "_What's so funny? I don't find our business to be really funny_," thought Will.

     "Boy! What do you really wish to do?"

     "P-pardon?"

     "Every single boy doesn't want to do what their fathers want them to do! What is it that you really want to do?"

     Will hung his head. "Please...please don't tell Father," he whispered. "I...I want to be a soldier."

     "And why is that? Not many people would choose this dangerous path."

     "I want to fight. I want to fight those who threaten my life!"

     "Mm hm," said Aberson idly. But he was really thinking, "_Ah, boy, but soon, you will find that fighting won't be the only reason you want to become a soldier._"

     "Ah! We're ready now." Will's father dragged in Fri, Kora, and Enteil, Will's other friend, each looking sullen.

     "Why do _we_ have to learn with Will?" whined Fri.

     "I'm not becoming a merchant when I grow up!" grumbled Kora.

     "You all still have to learn anyways! Education isn't only for working, they're for surviving too!"

     Fri and Kora continued to grumble, complain, and whine.

     "I'll leave you all here. Mr. Aberson, you can handle them now." Will's father left the room and closed the door.

     It was very, very silent.

     "Good morning," said Mr. Aberson in a rather threatening voice. "I'm am your new tutor. Call me Aberson."

     His students shivered as he beckoned them to sit down behind their desks.

     "Welcome to your first lesson with me," he said with a sinister grin and fiddled with his cane.

     Enteil couldn't help but give a nervous gulp.

     "I am aware that all of you troublemakers have had 6 other tutors before me, and each one of them didn't last very long. The longest tutor you had was...the first, right?"

     "Um...yeah, I guess so. We had him for only six days," said Fri.

     "He was mean," said Kora. "And he picks his nose."

     Will elbowed Kora. "Shut up!" he hissed.

     "I see." Aberson walked around the desks. "And I wonder why they all left you all so soon?"

     No one said anything, but Aberson already knew why.

     "Well, I'm not like those other tutors. I am here to teach you, and I aim to keep that. This is my world, and the rules here are to my liking. Let's start, shall we?"

     Will thought, "If I don't faint from this, will I _survive _with him?"

     "Isn't that the lunchtime bell?" asked Durga. There was a faint ring, yet clearly heard to everyone anywhere.

     "_Finally,_" thought Lyra. "_Sewing is so boring. At last I get to stop!_"

     "I think it is. Well Lyra, let's go to lunch. After that, come back here and sew some more."

     "More sewing?!" Lyra blurted out in disappointment.

     "Why, yes," said Durga in surprise. "What's wrong?"

     "Um, uh..." Under Durga's stare made Lyra nervous. "No, nothing's wrong!" she lied. "I l-like sewing! Yeah, that's it! I like it!"

     "Okay then. Come, Lyra." Durga set her materials down on the table and left the room. Lyra and Pantalaimon followed after her.

     When they entered the room, they saw Fri, Will, and Kora, to Lyra's disgust.

     "Ugh. Kora," she groaned as she remembered their last rude encounter.

     "Don't ask me to bite him again..." muttered Pantalaimon.

     "Who's that kid?" asked Lyra and pointed to Enteil.

     Pantalaimon scampered up to Lyra's head as a mouse and looked at where she was pointing. He saw that Enteil wore round-shaped glasses, had a bit of purple in his hair, and brown eyes. He was short, compared to Fri and Kora, and he seemed...icy.

     Little did she know, that Enteil will be the cruelest, the most dangerous boy she'd ever meet.

     What? Did I say something? No...must be your imagination...

     "No clue," answered Pantalaimon. "Probably one of your betrothed's friends."

     Lyra twitched violently at the mention of her betrothed.

     Pantalaimon said nothing anymore.

     "That's Will's wife," giggled Fri as he nudged Enteil. He pointed to Lyra, who was being seated at the other side of the table. Enteil nodded.

     "She seems to be a good match," he said in a calm voice like the stillness of a lake. But how can a voice be like the stillness of a lake? I don't know. Go figure it out yourself.

     Kora snorted. "Ha! A good match?! In 3 weeks, Will will be burnt to cinders with his arms ripped out of his sockets!"

     "Gee, that's real comforting," grumbled Will.

     Durga sat next to Lyra. Lyra looked around and saw Aberson sitting down next to Azherm. "Who is he?" she asked.

     "That's Saimel Aberson," said Durga without looking up from her plate. "My blood-father."

     "Samiel Aberson...Durga Furrne...both of your surnames are different," commented Lyra.

     "My mother was seduced by him." Durga's eyes flashed towards Aberson. "But I take the surname of my foster father. Such a sinful man..."

     Lyra quietly looked at her plate without saying another word.

     After lunch, Lyra had to go back to "the stupid sewing," as she called it and Will, Kora, Fri, and Enteil went back to being tortured--erm, _tutored_.

     They only had to work for an hour after lunch and then they were finally free to go. "That's it?" asked Lyra in happy disbelief.

     "Yes, Lyra. Or would you rather have another hour of sewing?" said Durga.

     "No thank you," said Lyra quickly.

     _Free at last_! she thought. She skipped down the hallway and went upstairs to her room. When she opened the door, she was greeted with pink and red colors. _Ew!_ she thought and slammed the door roughly. _That room can make the perfect setting for my nightmares._ But slowly, she opened the door to a little crack. Then closed it after peeking in again.

     "Are you going to go in or not?!" screeched Pantalaimon.

     "Okay, okay," grumbled Lyra and finally opened the door wide and walked into her room of nightmares. _Is it just me, or did they put in more ugly pink decorations in here?_

     _It's you,_ thought Pantalaimon.

     _Oh be quiet._

     Lyra walked up to her bedroom's wide window. She drew the curtains and saw a beautiful blue sky and snow-covered trees on the ground. In the distance was a silent city covered in the white powder. "Amazing..." she breathed. Finally, a section of the room that isn't pink. She rested against the window but then the window gave way and Lyra felt herself falling. "Aek!" she couldn't help but scream and flapped her arms wildly until she fell onto a wooden platform.

     _What is this?_

     Lyra got up, brushed the debris off her hands on her dress and saw that she was standing on a small wooden balcony. The wind was in her hair and she sighed with content and closed her eyes...

     A bird chirped in the distance. Lyra watched it fly by her little world. _If only I can fly like that bird!_ she thought. _To be free from rules and roles of women, to do whatever I want to do, to be at the mercy of no one, and especially free to choose whether I want to marry._

     Suddenly a pile of snow dropped on to her. Lyra gave a small half-shudder, half-yelp and her skin went numb from the cold of the snow. "How did-?" She looked up and saw a shoe duck away from her sight. "You!" she exclaimed. "I'm gonna get you for that!" Without thinking, Lyra hoisted herself up on the balcony railings and climbed on to the roof. Her fingers met more cold snow and a rain gutter, but she pulled herself up with the abilities from recent roof-climbing experiences and dragged her whole body up onto the roof. Both feet were soon standing in the rain gutter and then she began to climb upward, following the rugged snow path. _It's a person, it's gotta be a person_, she thought. _And they're gonna pay..._

     Her dress caught onto a railing spike. "Dammit!" she swore. With one hand she gripped the roof and the other tried to untangle the dress. "Stupid friggin' dress!"

     Then there was a loud ripping noise.

     "Uh oh..."

     Pantalaimon flew up to her. "You're in big trouble now, Lyra. You ripped your own dress!"

     "Are you gonna help me or not?!" Lyra snarled as she continued to untangle her dress. But she only succeeded into making it worse. "ARGH," she screamed in frustration, and in one rough tug, she ripped a large chunk from her dress.

     If Pantalaimon had any hands, he would've slapped his head about 10 times.

     Lyra continued to climb up with Pantalaimon trailing behind her. "Lyra," he gasped. "Stop, stop!"

     "Wha-?" asked Lyra. She turned her head to face Pantalaimon, and her hand grabbed the side of the roof. Big mistake. The snow was starting to get slippery and she began to slide down. Snow was rushing towards her as she tumbled down. The rain gutter was zooming in close to her, and then with a loud thunk, Lyra bounced off the rain gutter and fell off the roof. She screamed.

     Now the ground covered in snow was to be her cushion. No way was she going to survive a 3-story fall. She closed her eyes and one hand was still extended upwards, as though trying to hold onto a bar or something to save her.

     Then something warm, something strong grabbed her hand. Lyra gasped and opened her eyes with a start.

     "It's okay! I've got you!" someone said. Then Lyra felt herself being pulled to the top. Her other hand went up and the mysterious person grabbed that too. Slowly, Lyra was finally pulled up the roof and she dragged her legs up on the rain gutter and pulled herself up before daring to take a breath. At last she was safe. Pantalaimon perched himself on her shoulder and gasped, "Are you all right, Lyra?!"

     "Yeah, I'm fine," she panted. Then she looked up at her savior. "Thanks," she said. "Who are you?"

     "Who are _you_?" her savior asked.

     "Lyra Belacqua."

     "Lyra Belacqua...you're mentioned several times in the kitchens. Pleased to meet you." Her savior's hand was extended to her. "I'm Roger, the kitchen boy."


	6. The One Just For Me

Disclaimer: I don't own His Dark Materials. Phillip Pullman does. I do own Fri, Kora, Azhurm, Simitra, Durga, Aberson, Enteil, and Petronia. But I don't really care about Petronia. You can take her. :)

The One Just For Me

(note to self: must stop reading Chobits)

"Roger..." said Lyra. "That's a nice name. Why'd you dump snow on me?"

"O-oh. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to. I was just climbing the roofs because I'm finished with all my chores and I have some free time to spend. Are you okay? Your dress is torn up pretty badly," said Roger.

Lyra looked at her dress. There was a big rip and some strings were pulled out from their sewing. "Eeep! My parents are gonna KILL me....if only you didn't put that pile of snow on my head..."

Roger smiled weakly. "I'm really sorry about that."

"At least you have some free time. Being a kitchen boy...it would be way better than being Will's fiancée!" Lyra growled as she said her betrothed's name.

"I wouldn't say that," said Roger. "Being a kitchen boy is quite hard, with people looking at you as if you're lower than dirt and you're responsible for helping make the rich food for your masters while you're left with scraps from the floor. I'd rather be a girl and become his fiancée if I had to choose between a kitchen boy or a wife!"

"What?! You're insane. You're mad. I'd rather die than marry Will!"

"What's so bad about him?"

Lyra thought for a little bit, and then took a deep breath. "He's mean. He's arrogant, pathetic, cruel, spoiled, selfish, ungrateful...um...ugh, I just don't like him! My life is miserable because of him! Because I have to be his fiancée!"

"Well, why not try starting to see the good side of Will, and maybe your life would be better. He may seem mean on the outside, but he's really...he really cares for those close to him."

Lyra blinked and backed away with wide eyes. "Whoa. Just whoa. He actually cares for people?"

"Yeah. He's really supportive of his mother, who has problems with daily life because of her disabilities, and her fear of everything. And well...he was my friend."

Lyra blinked again. "You're his friend?"

Roger looked down at the snow on the roof and smiled sadly. "I _was_."

Lyra was about to ask more but then a voice called, "Lyra! Where are you?!"

"Uh oh," gulped Lyra. "That sounds like my mom. I can't let her see me on the roof with a torn dress!"

"Here," said Roger. "Follow me. I know a back route where your mom can't see us." He began to climb up the roof. Lyra followed him.

They hopped over rain gutters, climbed over small gargoyle statues, crawled across other roofs and then jumped down onto an unfamiliar place. "I've never seen this place before," said Lyra. "Where are we?"

"We're in one of the courtyards," answered Roger. "I've used this place many times. Look." He went over to a pile of snow and wiped it away to reveal a wooden trapdoor. "All the kitchen boys know about this place," he explained. "In here we store food or get food for the cooks. But there's a secret passageway that they haven't found out about." Roger pulled open the doors with all his strength and they slowly creaked open. Lyra peered inside but she only saw darkness. With her curiosity growing, she stepped in. Roger followed after her and the doors shut with a loud bang.

Lyra was a little scared. Everything was dark, but she could hear Roger's breathing. "Where are you?" she wondered out loud.

"Right next to you," Roger answered and he grabbed her hand. "Come on."

They walked in total silence toward the end. But the trip was long, and the end was far away. Then Roger turned left. There was another hallway, and it might have been full of shelves holding jars of wine and such, but Lyra couldn't see, even if her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She felt a tug on her hand and turned left again. Then right. Right again. Then left.

"_And why did they decide to build a maze for a storage room?_" thought Lyra as they turned toward another direction again. She felt a pricking on her ear and jumped, but it was only Pantalaimon who decided to turn into a spider for the occasion.

"_Pan, that en't funny!_" she growled as Pantalaimon silently chuckled.

"You should've seen the look on your face!" he told her.

"_How can you even see my face? It's so dark!_"

"I don't really need to see to believe. Because I am you, and I know everything about you because I'm a part of you."

"_No riddles, please. You're getting me confused here._"

"Are you okay?" asked Roger. "Did something spook you?"

"I'm okay," said Lyra, breaking out of her conversation with her dæmon. "It's just that Pan thinks it's funny to turn into a spider and surprise me when I'm going to be in big trouble if my parents find me!"

"Pan?"

"My dæmon."

"You have a dæmon too?" Roger's voice was raised with hope.

"Um...yeah."

"May I um...see?"

"Sure. Pan!"

Pantalaimon turn into a firefly. His light filled the dark hallway and everything wasn't so dark anymore. Lyra could see the excitement on Roger's face as he gaped at Pantalaimon.

"Do you have a dæmon?" asked Lyra.

"Everybody does." He laughed. "I was the only one with a visible dæmon though." His dæmon was a squirrel that crawled out of his pocket and perched itself on his shoulder. Pantalaimon flew close to his dæmon, and together, they began to interact with each other.

"I wonder why no one else have visible dæmons but us?" asked Lyra. "It's creepy looking at people without a dæmon...it just doesn't look right."

"I know...but they do have a dæmon, they just don't see them, and we can't see theirs. Perhaps it's just they way that they're born."

Then Lyra sneezed loudly. "Sorry," she apologized. "It's really cold down here." She rubbed her arms for warmth.

"We're almost there. Let's keep moving."

They continued onward through the storage room. After a few more twists and turns, Roger stopped and bent down. He crawled between two tall shelves and then he just disappeared.

Lyra gasped. "Roger? Where'd you go?"

Pantalaimon answered, "He went into a hole between the shelves. Follow him."

Lyra nodded. "O-okay." She went into a crawling position and slowly moved between the shelves. Then when she moved her arm forward, it fell through a hole. She tumbled in, screaming all the way. She crashed into something squishy, or rather, some_one_. Roger gave an "oof" as her head plummeted into his stomach and brought him down on the ground.

After catching her breath, Lyra cried, "I am so sorry! Are you okay?!"

"Don't worry...I'm fine," groaned Roger as he struggled to get up.

Lyra realized that she was still on Roger so she got off and stood up to help Roger up. "Are you okay?" she asked again in a really concerned tone.

"Yeah." Roger gave her a quick small smile. "Y'know, you're really nice, even though everyone else says that you're mean. I wonder why they think that you're so mean, because you aren't."

"Um...." Lyra blushed. Roger took her hand again and motioned her to follow him. There was a flight of spiraling stairs in front of them and their footsteps echoed between the walls with loud clangs. During the commotion, Pantalaimon teased Lyra, "He thinks you're nice, huh? Even when you're own parents think that you're so uncontrollable, immature, and tempered? Lyra, Lyra, Lyra. It's not really wise putting up a fake act to someone you're developing a crush on."

"_What!!! I'm don't--I'm not--I'm not developing a-a crush on him!!!_"

"Nor is it wise to be having an affair with him when you already have a husband."

There was only one thing that popped into Lyra's mind to reply to Pantalaimon's teasing.

"Pan. Shut up."

Will Parry walked into one of the many courtyards of his house. He saw footsteps in the snow and his bored little brain decided to follow them. "_If there's anything that doesn't have to do with Lyra..._" His thought trailed away as he saw where the footsteps led to. It was a familiar trapdoor. He was reminded of someone and frowned. Then he turned away with his curiosity draining away from him at a quick pace. He looked up and saw Mrs. Coulter running towards him.

"Will, Will, have you seen Lyra?" Mrs. Coulter asked.

"No," he said and was about to turn away but her golden monkey stopped him.

"Please, please find her."

Will sighed. "Fine."

"_Stupid Lyra,_" he thought. "_Why'd you go and get lost in my manor? You're so annoying..._"

Will checked the first floor, but there wasn't a trace of Lyra. He checked her room in the third floor and saw snow on her porch. "_What has happened here?_" he wondered and went onto the porch. He looked around. "_Nothing here._" As he was about to go back in, a piece of ripped cloth flew onto his face. Will grabbed it and recognized it as Lyra's dress. "_Lyra!_" he thought in panic and ran back inside, looking for her in a better mood. A panicky mood, actually. But better than an annoyed mood. He searched all around the manor in a frenzy, crashing into the many butlers and maids working around and overturned a platter of teacups once. He even looked into the storehouse, but left when he was halfway inside. After searching the attic, he realized that the only place he didn't check was his room. "_Ha! As if she's going to be in my room!_" Yet he went into his room anyways.

There was no one inside. Everything was exactly where it was in their correct positions. Will, finally realizing how exhausted he was after running around the manor, collapsed on his bed. Then he heard a loud slam at the bottom of his floor. Followed with an "Ow!!!"

"Lyra, are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine. It's just that I seem to have hit the top of this...this place."

Will crept slowly to the source of the noise, and found it to be a familiar place. Roger used to come out here from this very spot.... He grabbed a loose floorboard and pulled it up. Then in a loud clatter of noise, Lyra, Pantalaimon, Roger, and Roger's dæmon burst out.

"Whew! Where are we?" asked Lyra.

"We're in...a room," answered Roger.

"Your fiancé's room," said Pantalaimon. Lyra froze and looked up at Will.

"What are you doing in my-" Will started to say, but then he saw Roger climbing out from the side.

"Ah, sorry Will," Roger said. "Lyra needed some help, you see."

Will narrowed his eyes, but let it pass. "Your mother's looking for you, Lyra," he said. "I don't think she's really happy that her daughter's trying to hide from her."

"I'm not trying to hide!" yelled Lyra.

"Really? Then why were you using a secret passageway instead of going to your mother like a regular person?"

"_Rude as always,_" thought Lyra. "_I dunno how Roger used to be friends with him!_"

"Her dress was um, ripped," said Roger. "It was kinda my fault. Long story."

"Uh-huh."

"We're sorry for bursting into your room, Master William." Roger stood up and bowed to him. "We'll leave immediately." He left the room followed with Lyra and Pantalaimon.

"Wait--Roger!" said Will, but they were already gone.

"See? You see how he is? He's so mean and so arrogant! I bet he doesn't even have any feelings!" exclaimed Lyra when they reached the second floor.

"He has changed," said Roger in a low voice.

"Pardon?"

"He was once really nice...and I still think he is now, deep down inside, but...." Some painful memory flickered in Roger's mind and the pain was shown in his face for a small moment. "I just don't know...he has changed..."

Lyra looked at the helpless Roger and felt a sudden sorrow for him. She wanted to hug him, support him, and tell him that everything will be okay...

"_Lyra!_" said Pantalaimon.

Lyra snapped out of her trance and blushed. "Um....sorry," she said.

"It's okay. Ah, it's almost time for me to help prepare dinner. I'll see you soon, Lyra Belacqua!" Roger ran off downstairs, sneaking into dark places where no one could catch him out of the kitchens.

Lyra looked at his retreating figure and gulped. "I am in trouble," she told Pantalaimon.

"No, really?" replied Pantalaimon sarcastically.

"Well, I like him more than I like Will."

"I can see that. And your dress is ripped up by the way."

"Oh shoot! I e'nt going downstairs looking like this! Mother will kill me..."

"Said something about killing?" boomed a voice behind her. Lyra jumped in shock and turned around. "Oh! Uhâhi Mom!"

Mrs. Coulter stood behind her with an angry look on her face. "Lyra..." she started in a dangerous tone. "I've been looking for you for half an hour already! And now you decide to turn up, with a torn dress and dirty hands! You are in big trouble, young lady."

"Eheheheheh...." said Lyra nervously as her mother seemed to loom over her like a giant. She gulped.

Will closed the door and put the floorboard back into its spot. He walked over to the lowest drawer and pulled it out. Inside, there was only one thing, an upside-down picture. He hesitantly picked the picture up and blew the dust off. The image was a bit visible now, it showed a drawing. The drawing was crudely drawn, and one might expect that it was the work of art from a 5 year old. Will sadly stared at it, then took the picture and threw it away.

The picture may have been thrown away, but its image lingered in Will's mind.

The next day, Lyra woke up and found Roger standing under her porch. "What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"Man, why does this remind me of Shakespeare?" asked Pantalaimon.

"_Since when did you read Shakespeare_?" asked Lyra.

"When the author made me."

Lyra looked at Pantalaimon with a puzzled expression and a raised eyebrow, but decided to let it pass.

"I'm sorry for rudely interrupting your sleep, but I wished to see you again. Forgive me, Miss Belacqua," Roger answered.

"Don't worry, it's okay."

"Your company is better anyways, since I'm falling in love with you," said Pantalaimon mimicking Lyra's voice through Lyra's mind.

Ignoring Pantalaimon, she continued, "Um...this may sound stupid, but what exactly are you planning to do here?"

"Would you mind if we have a little conversation for a few minutes? There's no one to talk to at the kitchens, even though I have been there for 5 years already. You'd think by now I'd find someone there...."

"Um...I don't mind! Not at all!" burst Lyra with a giant blush spread all the way across her cheeks.

"Thanks."

There was an awkward silence.

So the authoress would like to say she's sunburnt all over again.

Even though she put on lots 'o sunblock.

And she was supposed to be working on this chapter instead of swimmingâ.

But it was really, really hot....

And someday she's going to die from skin cancer. After all, we're all going to die from skin cancer. I mean, there's cancer for everything. To name a few: skin cancer, lung cancer, mouth cancer, brain cancer, and basically, more and more cancer.

By the way, she's also really, really itchy.

Stupid sunburn...

So while the authoress complained there was that awkward silence (or you can say pregnant pause, even though I have no clue what the heck that means, it's gotta do with a pause, I know that) going on. Finally, Lyra spoke.

"Um..."

(But we wouldn't really call that speakingâ.)

"What are you doing today?" asked Roger, shifting his feet from side to side while looking at the ground.

Lyra thought for a moment. "Um, sewing lessons. Then lunch, and then more sewing lessons."

"Hm, I you...um..."

"Lalalalalalala..." sang Pantalaimon.

"Pan. Shut up."

Roger you...um...will you pay another visit to me again today?"

"Sure." Roger smiled up at her.

"And um...I was wondering...why did Will-"

"Hey, kitchen boy! The cook wants to see you, so get your lazy arse over here!" yelled a voice and Roger jumped.

"I'm sorry Lyra, I gotta go." He sped off quickly to the kitchens.

Lyra watched him run across the courtyard and didn't move from the balcony for about a minute, staring at the direction where Roger went. Then a knock on her door made her jump. "C-coming!" she yelled and ran back into her room. She opened the door and was face-to-face with Petronia.

"You!" Lyra gasped.

"Me," said Petronia. "The lovely, beautiful me. Yes, it's the one and only magnificent and majestic Petronia."

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I came to wake you up." She gave a fake smile.

"Well I'm up. Goodbye."

"You'll never get Will."

"What?" Lyra was caught off-guard.

"Will is mine, and he will forever be mine."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Goodbye."

"You seriously don't know? Dear, dear, you are dafter than I thought you would be, Lyra Belacqua. "

"Don't know what?"

"Why Will will always be mine."

"Than spare me the riddles and tell me, Petronia!"

"No, it's more fun this way. Although I don't suppose...or perhaps you will...if I told you, you would use it as an excuse to get away from Will?"

"What are you mumbling about?"

"Oh, never mind. There's no use talking to a brick wall. Too-de-loo!"

Petronia skipped away, or rather, attempted to skip away, but fell over nothing and slammed her face on the ground with a squelch. She got up quickly and pretended like nothing ever happened.

Lyra closed her door and began dressing. While she dressed, she thought, "Will...he's my fiancé, but I'm starting to like Roger..."

"...as if he is 'the one just for me'..."

"...do you think he's the one just for me, Pan?"

"Huh? Sorry, I didn't catch that," said Pantalaimon, breaking out of his trance.

"Never mind, forget it," grumbled Lyra as she wrestled a dress over her head.

"Okay then." Pantalaimon turned into a small cat and sank into the covers of Lyra's bed, hiding his worried look. "I did pay attention..." he thought to himself. "but I don't want to tell you your mistake...not just yet."

"You may think that Roger is this 'the one just for you', but he clearly isn't..."

there is no slash involved...

Don't forget, this is still a Lyra/Will fanfic! So tell me, did you think having Lyra like Roger was a good idea? Bad idea? Review!


	7. Simitra's Funeral

This is an unusually short chapter. Sorry!

* * *

Simitra's Funeral

* * *

Her funeral was to be held tomorrow.

Will's father announced the date, which brought back that grief and lonely feeling to Lyra during breakfast. While everyone else around her devoured the food in front of their hungry eyes, she didn't eat a bite. Petronia stuffed her face next to Lyra and asked for tenths.

"You gonna eat or what?" she asked and pointed to Lyra's plate.

"No-" Lyra said and then Petronia whisked her plate away. Lyra sighed and stared down at the wonderfully white tablecloth and its detailed stitching. "_I'm not in the mood for sewing class..._" she thought.

Will's reaction wasn't exactly the same as Lyra's, but before his father mentioned the gloomy event, he was talking happily with his friends. Now...he just sat in silence, eating his breakfast in small bites.

A voice snapped him out of his silence trance. "What are your feelings for her funeral, Will?" asked Enteil.

"Huh? Oh--um, I feel sad..." Will started.

Enteil watched him, expecting way more than just "sad".

"And well...she was really nice, but...it's a feeling that I can always pass on...I--" Will stopped. "Why are you asking me this?"

Enteil gave Will a deep look. "There'll be a time when someone close to you, may also seem to be going to the grave. I want you to compare your feelings then with the feelings of your former fiancée's death."

"Um...okay." Will stared at Enteil, as if trying to get more clues from the mysterious boy, but Enteil resumed eating the food in front of him, avoiding eye contact with Will. Will pondered what he meant, then gave up and also continued eating.

* * *

After breakfast Lyra went to sewing class and Will went with Kora, Fri, and Enteil for Aberson's torturing--er, _tutoring_. The morning passed by painstakingly slow. At last, the lunch bell rang and they all burst out of their rooms back to the dining room. Lyra still wasn't hungry when they served the lunch.

"Seriously," said Petronia, her mouth full of crackers. Crumbs flew out as she spoke. "How can you not be hungry? I'm so starved. There should be some snack break in between breakfast and lunch. I thought I was gonna die!"

"Where have you been, if you're so hungry?" asked Lyra as Petronia took her plate again.

"I," said Petronia, proudly placing a hand over her chest. "have been doing proper lady work with my mommy, my mother-in-law Mrs. Parry, and Mrs. Coulter."

Before she could continue, Lyra zoned out so that she wouldn't hear anymore of Petronia's bragging.

* * *

At last sewing lessons and tutoring lessons were finally over for the day. Before Mrs. Coulter could catch Lyra and make her bond with Will, Lyra scurried away to the stables. There, she met Fri.

"Hey!" Fri shouted when he saw her and waved. "Seen any executions lately?"

"Um...no," Lyra replied, cautiously approaching the boy. She remembered him as Will's cousin, the one who liked to laugh and also hated Petronia. "He doesn't look too bad," said Pantalaimon. "But be careful around him. You don't want to develop a crush on him also..."

"Pan, shut up."

"You're here for something, aren't you?" asked Fri.

"Not really. I feel like exploring."

"Hey! I feel like it too! We should go together. Right after I muck out the stables."

"You're a stable-boy?"

"Yup! I'm your fiancée's cousin and the stable-boy of Parry Manor. Y' wanna go for a ride on this beaut here?" He slapped the rump of a brown horse. It kicked him in anger.

Lyra laughed. It was the first time she laughed since Simitra's death.

"Now, now, Bessie," scolded Fri. He got himself up and began to haul dung out. Lyra felt useless just standing there, watching him do all the work, so she asked, "Can I help?"

Fri paused. "I'd love an extra hand but...we all have our duties. This is my duty. Your duty isn't mucking out stables."

"Who says?" asked Lyra angrily.

Fri smiled. "You're right. If you want to, you can help. It's really dirty work though. And don't let anyone else catch you doing my duty....They en't as tolerant as me."

"Okay." Lyra bent down in front of the dung pile and shoveled some into the nearby wheelbarrow. The second time she noticed how her dress was always in the way. "Blasted thing," she muttered and clawed at her dress. It still poofed up and got in her way.

"Is there anything else I can wear?" she wondered.

"I have a spare pair of breeches in the back." Fri jerked a thumb to the back of the stables. "They're a bit dirty. I hope you don't mind."

"Anything's better than a dress," muttered Lyra. She waddled over to the back and concealing herself behind a wall, she changed from her uncomfortable dress to Fri's muddy breeches. Walking out from her hiding place, she bent down next to Fri and shoveled in some more dung. Fri took one glance over his shoulder and exclaimed, "Whoa! Now you really look like a boy!"

"I look like a boy?" asked Lyra. She knew her hair was short, but she never knew that wearing something else other than dresses made her look the opposite gender.

"I wonder...if you went up to Will right now would he recognize you?" Fri mused.

"Forget about him," she muttered.

"Hah! Wouldn't it be funny if we said this pretty young boy here was his fiancée?" Fri cackled and slapped his thighs.

Lyra grew crimson and turned her head away from him. Then she was given an idea. "Fri, do boys have better lives than girls?"

Fri thought for a moment. "Hm...depends. If you're a boy of high rank like Will, sure! If you're a lowly stableboy like me, I guess life's okay. And if you're a girl....well, after marriage, I always hear stories of them being beaten, despite their class."

Lyra froze. "_Will I end up being beaten? I've seen it happen to Mother sometimes..._"

As if he already knew what Lyra was thinking, Fri reassured, "It's okay! Will's not the type to beat anyone he doesn't hate."

"Yeah, the ones he _doesn't _hate. I'm _so_ sure I'm in that category," Lyra said sarcastically.

"Ah, don't worry; I'll make sure he doesn't beat you." Then with one final tug, Fri dumped the last of the manure into the wheelbarrow. "Done! Now all I have to do is push this outside and then we can go." After he had done that, he and Lyra walked out of the stables and into the Parry's gigantic backyard.

"Wow! It's pretty!" cried Lyra as she observed her surroundings. "It's better than those houses scrunched up together in the city."

There were many golden-leafed trees that made it look more like an elfin forest than a backyard. There were many leaves on the ground, along with some piles of snow. Sunlight streamed through the forest, making everything in soft, golden colors. Lyra felt drawn towards the light at the end, and started towards it; first at a slow walk, then bursting into a run.

"Lyra! Wait!" yelled Fri, but Lyra kept running towards the golden light. Pantalaimon changed into a hawk to keep up with her pace as he followed her.

The thin trees rushed past Lyra as she and Pantalaimon raced ahead. She had never felt this free. She wanted to keep running, denying her burning muscles screaming for her to stop. It was as if she had broken her earthly bonds and flew to the heavens.

"Lyra, Lyra, let's stop," panted her daemon. Lyra nodded and slowed down.

The two neared a small stream. The water was cool and clear as she splashed herself while brightly colored fish swam downstream, to wherever the current led them. Nearby Lyra and her daemon was a small waterfall half her height, where a trickle of water fell into the stream at a steady rate. She splashed herself some more, and then a shadow crept over her, blocking the sunlight. She paused and looked up to a boy. He was standing on top of the waterfall, just before the edge.

"Who are you?" Something about him was familiar....

"I am Enteil," the boy answered. He was almost Lyra's height, but a little shorter. He showed no interest in Lyra, but stared at her daemon with a piercing, icy look from his cold, deep eyes that housed an empty soul. (A/N: Now, how many adjectives can I fit in here? :P )

"Enteil..." Then she remembered. "_It's another one of Will's weirdo friends. He's just as creepy as Kora. Let's hope he en't perverted too..._"

"Uh, hi?" she said. Enteil didn't answer her.

"Is your daemon always a hawk?"

Lyra never felt so insulted. Pantalaimon changed into a large mountain lion to show him and roared for the effect.

"No."

"Hm." Enteil gave a sinister smile. "Perfect."

Lyra frowned. Then she heard rustling from a nearby bush and saw Fri come out.

"Lyr--Enteil!" Fri gasped. Enteil gave him a more piercing look, this time a look of hatred, freezing him in his tracks. Fri sucked in a breath and held it.

"I don't want to speak to _you_," said Enteil to Fri, and walked away upstream.

"What's his problem?" asked Lyra.

"He's...always like that," replied Fri, avoiding Lyra's eyes. "C'mon, let's go back."

"But it's not even dinnertime!" Lyra protested.

"By the time we get back it will."

Lyra "humph"ed and followed Fri back to Parry Manor.

* * *

"So Lyra, where have you been all this time?" asked Mrs. Coulter with a creepy smile and narrowed eyebrows.

"Oh. Was I needed?" asked Lyra.

"Yes, you were, several hours ago."

Lyra gulped.

"Your father and I have agreed that you should take schooling with Will along with your sewing classes. Okay? The day after tomorrow you will go to Mr. Aberson and after lunch, you will go to your sewing classes."

"Aww, mom, _school_?"

"Knowledge is very important. Especially how to read and write."

"But mom--"

"You will do exactly are you are told, understand?" Mrs. Coulter demanded sharply.

"Yes, mother."

"Good. Now go along now. You'd best talk to Will and get to know him better."

Lyra frowned and plodded away. "_School_..." she muttered under her breath. "First sewing, now _school_. I hate this place!" She kicked the nearest wall next to her and stomped up the stairs into her room, scaring the heck out of a maid taking down the laundry.

* * *

Morning came. Lyra was woken up at the crack of dawn.

"Nnngh, ith's too early, I'm tired, let me sleep..." she grumbled and shifted over to the other side.

Pantalaimon gave a large yawn.

"Ma'am, you must get up. Today you must go," said an unfamiliar voice.

"Hunh? Go where?" she asked groggily as she forced herself out of her blankets and rubbed her eyes.

"To a funeral. Here, wear these." A servant girl older than Lyra handed her a black robe and a black overcoat. Lyra blinked and took her clothing. "_At least they're not pink..._" she thought to herself and began to dress. Pantalaimon happily curled up in his dog form on her bed and dozed off.

After putting on the robe, the servant brushed her hair and clipped on a bow. Lyra didn't resist, since she was still sleepy. Then her face was washed and her overcoat was placed on her back. "Pan, wake up," she told her daemon. Pantalaimon yawned again and slowly slid off the bed following Lyra out the door.

The carriage ride to the graveyard was short. No words were spoken in the tense silence until they reached Simitra's grave. The priest spoke words of comfort to the grieving families and blessed Simitra's soul. Then he asked everyone to give their last words before the dirt was put on the coffin.

"I have not known you for long, but I grieve for you, and wish you to a happy place," said Mr. Parry.

"Simitra...." Will paused. "...goodbye. I'll miss you. You were a good person."

Mrs. Parry didn't attend because she had a cold. Petronia and her family didn't say much, and Lyra had a suspicion that they were glad she was dead. Simitra's foster mother, who had loved her like her own child, broke into tears and her husband silently cried and they bid her farewell. It came to Lyra's father and mother, who admitted that they didn't really know her well, but misses her and also wished her in a happy place.

"Simitra," blubbered Lyra when it was her turn. "You didn't deserve to die! Please, come back! I'll, I'll find the one that murdered you, and kill 'em! I'll make 'em suffer!"

"Lyra!" hissed Lord Asriel.

Last was a girl Lyra had never seen before. She also wore black, but it was as if black always suited her. Her hair was black, her face was pale and her eyes were dull, lifeless coal. She looked at the coffin.

"I've never met you before," she spoke slowly, as if uncertain her words were right.

"Well, say at least one thing good about her," said Mr. Parry.

The girl stared at the coffin. "....You weren't a damn whore. At least, I think you weren't. I hope you weren't."

"Violet!" Mr. Parry cuffed her. The girl put a hand to her throbbing ear and yelled, "Oww! What'd I do wrong? You said something good about her so I did say something good!" Mr. Parry sighed. "I knew it was a mistake taking you here..."

"I never wanted to come here in the first place," she said spitefully.

The soil was shoveled into the grave. Lyra watched every piece of dirt land on the coffin until it was completely covered up and the tombstone was erected. Then, slowly, everyone began to leave.

"She's moody," Pantalaimon suddenly said.

"Wha? Who?" asked Lyra.

"That girl. Kind of like you."

"I en't moody!"

"Believe me, sometimes you are."

"Well I don't believe you. So I was never moody."

"Than what would you call yesterday?"

"That wasn't moody, it was angry."

"It was moody. But it's okay. Moody or not, I'm glad you're still here."

"Mmhm." Lyra nodded and pressed a mouse Pantalaimon against her heart. What became of Simitra's invisible daemon? Lyra didn't want to think about her daemon being separated from her. "Let's go back to the manor now." She climbed onto the carriage, her heartbeat matching Pantalaimon's.

* * *

Another OC! This time just as weird as Simitra, but easier to figure out. You can see from this chapter that I'm trying to develop more of my OCs, starting with Fri. Next chapter we'll get to know this "Violet" a little more. Also, a little bit of Will and Roger's dark past is revealed.

If there are any typos, spelling or grammar errors, or OOCness, pleeeese tell me! Thank you!


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